The Loving Kind
by TurningArt
Summary: Rachel chose to be with Quinn out of sheer guilt after the accident. Set in New York three years after. Complete but in the process of editing errors, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've done a few fanfics in general, but a first for glee (yes, I separate accounts because I'm weird like that and I love compartmentalizing my cyber space life)**

**Working idea: Rachel chose to be with Quinn out of sheer guilt after the accident. There's a whole lot of amazing stories right now that was prompted by "On My Way", but the ones I've seen often revolved around Rachel's realization of her feelings for Quinn. I don't know if there's a similar work out there, if there is, I apologize, I'm not writing this in bad faith.**

**Usual disclaimers apply.**

The first thing Quinn did was run to Santana for advice. The Latina lived strategically at Upper West Side; close enough for emergencies, but far enough for her urge to monitor her friend's whereabouts and activities— an apparent misguided display of maternal instinct. The Latina's reaction was predictable. She spewed curses in Spanish and reverted to name-calling. As soon as she calmed down, she offered tentative display of affection and a promise of much needed emotional support.

"So what the fuck are you gonna do with that _puta madre?_" Santana huffed before lighting a cigarette and quickly stuffing her hands in her coat pockets. Of all days for Quinn to use the best friend card, it had to be the coldest day of autumn, and chose, of all places, Bryant Park.

"Santana," Quinn warned in a half-hearted manner while rubbing her temples and stared blankly at the coffee cup in front of her.

"Rumpelstiltskin," the Latina retorted.

"San," Quinn replied in a sterner manner.

"Manipulative Lilliputian bitch?"

Quinn shot a glare that meant to shut up her feisty friend. With cigarette stuck in her mouth, the Latina raised her hands up as a sign of truce. "I don't need that crap," the blonde drawled. "Besides, this is your entire goddamn fault," she added as she took a cigarette from Santana's case.

The brunette gaped at her for a few seconds as if trying to process the validity of her broken friend's statement. "My fucking fault?" she finally asked.

Quinn dragged out a puff and leaned back holding a blank expression on her face. "Had you not opened your stupid mouth in the hospital, I would not be in this stupid situation." Santana opened her mouth to argue, but Quinn quickly interjected by waving her cigarette vaguely in the air. "And I'm back to smoking, no thanks to you."

Santana gave Quinn a stare of incredulity. "Are you for real? You were about to die in the fucking operating table. I had no intentions of being your secret keeper until kingdom come, and I sure as hell did not want you to carry your unrequited fucking feelings for her to your goddamn grave. So yeah, I opened my sexy mouth and told her you love her. I have no regrets." The Latina raised her eyebrows and added, "And you're very free to stub that cigarette you took from my stash, _voluntarily,_ if I may add".

Quinn rested her chin on her hand. She silently observed people passing by. "Can I stay at your place?"

"What's that? Can I wreck her face?" Santana responded with mirth in her eyes.

Quinn chuckled dryly then sipped her now lukewarm coffee. "You don't have hearing problems, Santana. Don't make me beg. It's ugly and you'll be scarred for life."

"On the contrary, I very much want to witness the stripping down of Fabray's pride in front of me."

"San-"

"I get it, Quinn. My place is yours. Get out of your apartment faster than Finn's prema-"

"Thank you," Quinn immediately quipped. The last thing she needed were thoughts about Finn and everything related to him.

Quinn snapped out of her deep thoughts as soon as the recorded announcement of the next stop rang through the subway. She steadily got up from her seat and swung her bag over her shoulder. She hated the train if not for the fact that she needed this commute on a daily basis from Bronx to Manhattan. The bus system of the New York City boroughs brought comfort in its slow steadiness. On the other hand, she had pure hatred towards the subway station's dark and sometimes sinister feel. She mostly hated the chaos, noise, and sheer speed and force of the train. It was always a struggle to breathe.

She immediately stepped out as soon as the sliding door opened and hastily ran up the stairs. Despite being slightly blinded by the sunlight that spread right above 77th street and Lexington Avenue, Quinn welcomed the change anyway. It was literally her light at the end of the tunnel; a few more blocks to the east and she was home free.

She walked a few streets up then onto a bus to 1st Avenue and stopped by Rachel's favorite local grocer. Quite pricey, but then again, so was everything else within their vicinity. But she was armed with Fabray wealth, mostly from her trust fund and her father's guilt money. And with Rachel sharing the cost of living, they are able to live beyond subsistence that most college students endured.

She couldn't help but smile at herself on the way home at the thought of two suburban Ohio kids living at the Upper East Side. She passed by a French school where a few known children of celebrities were enrolled. Despite her upbringing and economic status, Quinn's father avoided the private school route- perhaps one of the few things she was grateful for to her father. He was a proud Irishman of working class ancestry. He valued hard work and often spoke of his family's long journey from Ireland to New South Wales then finally in the United States. Quinn had often suspected that the much revered Samuel Fabray was a former convict thrown in Australia for a petty crime -stealing eggs or bread- like most convicts in Australia were guilty of. Quinn never bothered to ask. Asking invited trouble as far as her family was concerned. Don't ask so there was no need to lie.

So Samuel Fabray was a family hero, not an egg-snatcher.

And Quinn Fabray was a heterosexual Christian, not a lesbian agnostic.

Thus, for more than three years, Quinn's parents lived in separate but identical delusion: Rachel was her roommate and best friend. Rachel and Quinn were the modern day Hoover and Tolson. Their romantic relationship was an open-secret to the Fabray clan. This worked well because the financial support continued and they have all avoided the much dreaded confirmation of her sexuality and beliefs, and consequent familial exile.

The blonde took a quick glance at her watch while clutching two brown bags in each arm. She had a lot of time. Enough time to make dinner and a few more dishes that Rachel can heat up in the microwave for the next few days. Enough time to clean their one-bedroom apartment before Rachel got home. She glanced at her watch one more time for confirmation.

Quinn had enough time to pack her things, have dinner with Rachel, break up their engagement and move out.

They ate in complete silence, until Rachel could no longer hold her tongue. "I thought it will take longer than this for you to...to move out." The brunette felt like her whole world collapse, or she was doused with a dozen slushies- whichever is more painful. She wrung her hands nervously and tried to maintain eye contact. "We can still work this out."

Quinn slowly put down her spoon and leaned back. "Rachel, I love you too much for me to let you go on like this. There should be no room for what ifs in your life."

"Quinn, if I could just-"

"Rachel, please," Quinn spoke softly.

The young diva briefly wondered if her soon to be ex-girlfriend had taken some form of anxiety pills. Quinn sat directly in front of her with so much calmness that could have been mistaken for apathy.

The brunette knew she had lost and simply nodded a nod of surrender. It took Quinn an hour to pack, 30 minutes to prepare Rachel's favorite vegetable soup and 15 minutes for the blonde to gather her pieces of luggage and duffel bags and another 15 for Santana to pick her up. It took merely two hours to end her life with Rachel; but as Quinn sat in Santana's car, she knew it would take a lifetime to get over it.

She hoped she didn't have to.


	2. Chapter 2

"_I wish I had fallen in love with somebody a little more handsome, of course. But I didn't. I fell in love with you" –Norwegian Wood._

Santana found Rachel slumped over the waiting room couch. The Latina had never seen a more pitiful sight. She carefully placed her coffee on top of the table positioned beside the sofa, and sat next to broken girl. "Any news?"

Rachel shook her head without shifting posture, "She's still unconscious but responsive".

"That's good, right?" The Cheerio inquired in a slightly hopeful tone, choosing to filter out the "unconscious" and focused instead on the "responsive" part.

Rachel sat up and air quoted, "cautiously optimistic" before resting her forehead on her palm. "It's been five days. And if I hear cautiously optimistic coming out of her doctors' mouths one more time..."

"You'll do what, exactly?" Santana chuckled.

The smaller girl shrugged. "I just want her to get better, Santana. She shouldn't be in there. She almost..." Rachel paused then swallowed roughly. "She almost died".

Santana could only nod and sigh in response. She didn't want to remember the moment but her mind kept reverting back to that phone call from Judy literally seconds before the wedding march. A cold shiver ran down her spine and felt her heart constricting again. The reaction had become too familiar over the past few days. She deflected by a little escapism; she talked to Quinn in her head. Santana's lips twitched slightly as fantasy Santana began talking to a bedridden but very much alert fantasy Quinn.

_Sitting at the edge of Quinn's hospital bed, Santana scowled and crossed her arms. "When I told you to try and stop the damn wedding, I didn't have this in mind, you bitch."_

"_But it did stop the wedding". Quinn threw a Cheshire cat grin her way. "And that's all that matters to me right now"_

"Santana!"

Santana's gaze snapped over to Rachel's direction. "Huh?"

Rachel looked horrified and offended. "You're _smirking._ How can you smirk at a time like this?"

The Latina had the decency to look guilty. She could have replied with an insult, with special coating of sarcasm. But a quick survey of Rachel's physical state clamped down her natural instinct to attack. "I was just thinking of happier times," she mumbled then looked away.

Rachel's gaze softened. "I've been doing a lot of that, too," she admitted. "But I suppose we don't have enough fun memories with Quinn to elicit that kind of smirk," the diva lamented, blinking rapidly to fight back her tears. "We were just starting to create really good ones."

"Listen. Quinn will make it through, okay? Trust me."

Rachel looked at Quinn's best friend and rival with wide eyes. "How do you know that?"

"She'll live for you," Santana said with conviction and nonchalance, as if she was stating something as factual as gravity.

Rachel looked down and a barely audible "oh" escaped her lips.

For Rachel, there is only one thing worse than Quinn fight for her life, and that is, for her friend to be in this state because she had gone out of her way to comply with the diva's request. And the only thing that made this absolutely terrible is finding out _why_ Quinn relented despite her strong protest over the wedding.

Quinn was in love with her.

At least that's how she understood it.

_Rachel sensed the panic building inside the Latina when they heard the triage nurse speak of "internal bleeding caused by blunt trauma" to the attending surgeon. Santana tried to reach for Quinn while being transferred from the ER to the OR, only to be blocked by another nurse._

_Santana skillfully evaded the nurse and inserted herself between two interns, touching Quinn's hand. "Quinn. Honey, we're here, okay? Rachel's here. The wedding didn't—". The taller brunette found herself being pulled away as they got nearer the OR. In a last ditch effort, Santana screamed, "No wedding, Quinn! She's here! Rachel's here!" over and over until the doors closed, leaving a bewildered Rachel standing a few steps behind her distraught team mate._

Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a commotion coming from Quinn's room. "Santana," Rachel breathed out as both of them quickly stood up. Judy stepped out of the room and motioned the two girls to come nearer. "Quinn just woke up," the older blonde explained in a subdued manner. "The doctors will just run some tests then we can come in soon."

They were led inside by a nurse when the attending physician was finally checking on Quinn's hand eye coordination. The doctor raised a finger in front of Quinn and asked her to touch his finger, then requested Quinn to touch her own nose. One and a half hours of being conscious and Quinn was already visibly annoyed by the repetitive task.

"She's awake, alright. Cranky as always," Santana whispered. Judy nodded in agreement while Rachel's eyes remained glued to Quinn's bandaged legs. "Are...are her legs – can she..." Rachel let out a shaky breath.

Santana's eyes widened as she finally took notice of the injuries. Judy understood Rachel's concerns, shook her head and placed her hand gently on Rachel's shoulder. "Fractured knee cap on her left leg. It will take a while to heal and she needs to be under physical therapy. With her internal injuries and surface wounds, all in all, it could've been worse..." Judy sighed heavily. "She was looking forward to cheerleading again but the doctors said there is no way her body will completely heal in a few months."

Santana pursed her lips and simply nodded. There was nothing else to say regarding Quinn's supposed huge cheerleading comeback being cut short with finality. "She would also need to see a psychiatrist." Judy added, "It's apparently quite common for victims of vehicular accidents to suffer post traumatic stress disorder, so we would need to watch out for symptoms as well."

Judy was right. Considering the wreck, things could've been worse. While Rachel silently mulled over it, anger slowly built up. She wanted to scream. Scream at everyone because no one was blaming her, not even Judy. Rachel believed it was entirely her fault. Inexplicably, no one had voiced despise over her role in this. When they lost Nationals last year, Santana wanted to murder her, yet it was Finn who initiated the kiss. How is this any different? She bombarded Quinn with text messages, demanding her to rush. She made it very clear to Quinn that her presence was wanted—need—in her wedding. Of course Quinn had to reply. Quinn always responded to her in whatever form. Santana should've sliced her into pieces this time. But out of all moments Santana chose to show compassion, it had to be now.

"_This is my fault. Oh god," Rachel placed her hand over her mouth. She didn't want to cry when Quinn's own mother has kept composure all throughout this painful waiting game. Quinn had been in the operating room for two hours and the doctors had not updated them. Every minute that passed by felt like an eternity._

_She felt Santana staring at her and waited for the kill. Instead, she heard a barely audible "so not your fault." Rachel scoffed as she wiped away her tears. This seemed to have spurred Santana on to keep talking. "It was the truck driver's fault. I mean, it wasn't like Quinn was driving at a stupid expressway in California. She wasn't even speeding that much. She had the right of way and...and the truck driver was supposed to—"_

"_I'm going to stop you right there, Santana", Rachel said through gritted teeth. "We all know if Quinn wasn't replying to me, she wouldn't be here. I could've just waited or went on with the wedding without her, but no, selfish me wanted everything."_

Rachel was very much aware that she emotionally blackmailed Quinn by banning anyone who was against the marriage from taking part in her wedding. She knew that tactic will work because her former nemesis was trying to make amends. Theirs was a fragile friendship, and the blonde wasn't above giving in. Rachel knew Quinn always gave in to her wishes, albeit begrudgingly. She aimed straight for the jugular and Quinn had to pay the price for it.

And so Rachel felt angry at herself for having insisted to have Quinn in her wedding. She wanted to be mad at Quinn as well but just couldn't get to it. Not when the blonde's delicate face was covered with wounds from shard glass.

The physician was checking at, what Rachel can only surmise, a huge gash on her forehead. "This might leave a visible scar, I'll get our medical aesthetics head to come down here and take a look at it," the middle-aged man said to Quinn.

Quinn chuckled in response. "Can I get him to make me look like Mila Kunis?"

Judy rolled her eyes and cleared her throat.

Quinn glanced at their direction and smiled widely. "Olivia Wilde, then?"

Judy smiled back then shook her head as she stepped closer and tucked Quinn's blanket. "Sweetheart, you're prettier than them."

"You're kind of obligated to say that", Quinn protested.

"You look like me, of course I am", Judy quipped in return, gently kissing the top of Quinn's head. She then turned her attention to the amused doctor. "While you're trying to fix everything already, is there anything you can give to cure her temper?"

"Mom, I am _not_ temperamental," Quinn scowled.

Judy raised an eyebrow. "I rest my case."

Rachel finally understood that the infamous "Fabray eyebrow raise" was genetic. This light moment between mother and daughter offered temporary reprieve from a challenging life ahead, and Rachel took it all in, committing it to memory. Santana nudged her and jerked her head towards Quinn's direction. The diva waited for the doctors to leave, nodded and tentatively stepped forward. She tried to ignore the hodgepodge of emotions that had been brewing, which always started at the pit of her stomach and ended up with her crying. Santana plopped herself into Quinn's bed earning a much deserved glare from the blonde. Santana shrugged then Quinn chuckled and shook her head as she mumbled "ass".

Rachel felt a tinge of jealousy. She had longed for that kind of interaction with Quinn for as long as she can remember. That feeling suddenly turned into grief because she was absolutely certain that with the accident and what she now knows, she would never see and treat Quinn the same way again, let alone move on to something more comfortable.

As if it will bury away her dread, Rachel swallowed roughly and smiled as she positioned herself a step behind Judy. This finally earned Quinn's attention.

"Hey," Quinn said softly while wearing an inscrutable expression. "You're here"

"Yes," Rachel wrung her hands and stepped forward while Judy excused herself for a coffee break. "Yes, I'm here."

Quinn broke into a smile. "How long was I out?"

"Six days," Santana replied while texting Brittany.

Quinn's gaze shifted over to Santana and frowned slightly. "You've been here at the hospital, too, since then?"

Santana tilted her head and shrugged before getting up and head towards the door. "I'm hungry; I'll be back in a few." She pointed at Rachel before closing the door behind her. "_She's_ been here since then. Dad would've killed me if I skipped school. Rachel only goes home to shower."

Rachel blushed and tucked some hair behind her ears. "My fathers were okay with it."

Quinn blinked several times. She still felt a little woozy from painkillers but alert enough to notice that Rachel implied asking permission from her fathers, not Finn. She made a quick glance at Rachel's hand could not see a wedding band. While she remained physically calm, the Holter attached to her chest gave the excitement away.

"And.. And, someone has to give the student body update every hour," Rachel added, not noticing a slight change in Quinn's ECG activity.

She chuckled incredulously. "The _whole_ student body? Every hour?"

"I found out that Twitter is an efficient way to disseminate information," Rachel shrugged.

Quinn quirked her eyebrows and pursed her lips. "Oh? You have a Twitter account now? You've gone a long way since MySpace. I'm proud of you."

The brunette smirked, "And I'm ashamed to know you don't have one." Feeling more at ease, she pulled a chair and sat next to her friend.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well not everyone is as cool as you."

"But you should get one. You're hipster. Hipsters use social networking sites like it's your version of the Greek's Agora," Rachel teased. "I bet you've got a secret stash of Buddy Holly glasses and Chucks."

"No. But I do have a compendium of Jack Kerouac," Quinn revealed.

Rachel's eyes widened and nodded slowly as if she was finally let in a secret society "Ah, a hipster essential read. I see."

Quinn smiled and pushed herself up for a better position, grimacing in the process. Rachel immediately stood up and held on to her arm. "Thanks," Quinn mumbled. "I should mentally prepare myself for this. I'm going to be wheelchair-bound for a couple of months. But once my kneecap's a bit better, they're going to put a brace then I can start with crutches. I have a few screws inside my knee," Quinn made a winding movement with her hand. "Sort of like Frankenstein"

Rachel winced at the description and chewed her lip."What about your internal injuries?"

Quinn touched her rib cage area instinctively. "Same. Just for me to rest and wait for my body to heal naturally. The doctors sounded upbeat. I seem to be a fast healer." Quinn was unusually talkative but the absent-minded nod and blank look in Rachel did not go unnoticed. The blonde slightly shifted to her side so she can face the girl she is hopelessly in love with directly. "I'm sorry."

Rachel frowned. "What are you apologizing for?"

"For ruining your wedding." This time, Quinn didn't steal a glance but full-on stared at Rachel's hand. The more she spent talking to Rachel, the more she saw how miserable the girl has been. Quinn felt guilty for allowing herself to feel happiness earlier.

Rachel's gaze snapped over to Quinn's line of vision, took Quinn's hand and shook her head emphatically. "Quinn, you have _nothing_ to apologize for, okay?"

"I—okay." There was no room for argument as far as Rachel's pointed look is concerned, and Quinn was still too exhausted to fight it out.

Rachel fixed Quinn's blanket, aping Judy's actions earlier including a kiss on the blonde's forehead. But unlike Judy's kiss, Rachel let hers linger leaving Quinn perplexed and internally giddy. "Why don't you get some more sleep? I'll be here when you wake up," Rachel whispered as she sat on the bed and began stroking her friend's hair.

Maybe it was the power of suggestion, or the fact that the brunette's slender fingers were massaging her scalp. Whatever it was, Quinn had no time to process. Her eyes began fluttering and eventually fell into a deep slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

**Working idea: Rachel chose to be with Quinn out of sheer guilt after the accident. **

**A/N: This chapter is a flashback. I will be shifting from story's present timeline and season 3. **

**Usual disclaimers apply.**

_What is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil – Nietzsche_

"Quinn?" Santana quietly asked as she drove around Columbus Circle for perhaps the third time. "Are you ready to go home?" It's been about two hours since the Latina picked up Quinn from the Upper East Side apartment she shared with Rachel, but the blonde requested to first drive around the Manhattan Borough.

"… Or we can at least stop somewhere?" Santana continued when she heard no response. "My ass is getting numb.", she added as a last ditch effort.

"East River Promenade", Quinn mumbled with her line of vision glued to the scenery from her side of the car.

The Latina groaned internally. A cold autumn evening and Quinn chose to stop at a riverside park; one where Santana knew the blonde had spent numerous times walking with Rachel. She made a mental note to be at grabbing distance in case the heart-broken girl beside her decides to jump off the ledge. But if freezing their asses off is what her friend wants, it's what she's going to give.

They parked at Yorkville and first grabbed coffee at Bagel Bob's because "Starbucks ruins neighborhoods and local entrepreneurial spirit", or so the former blonde HBIC of McKinley High claimed.

"You have misplaced angst, Fabray", Santana grumbled as she adjusts the collar of her coat upon reaching the walkway. "The least you could have done was to let me have my caramel macchiato"

Quinn scoffed before sipping from her cup. "It's overpriced but bland. Besides, I paid for our drinks, so don't even start with me", the blonde sassed.

Santana looked above and mumbled what Quinn could gather as something to do with mortification and hell. The Latina's attention was eventually directed to the iron post of a man depicted to be walking with 'John Finley Walk' casted below. "Is he the twin brother of Johnnie Walker?"

"Ha ha. You're hilarious." Quinn paused and looked up. "You really don't know who John Finley is?"

Santana raised an eyebrow. "And you do?" The Latina immediately regretted posing a challenge given the smug look on Quinn's face. "Of course I do. He was president of City College of New York _and_ became Commissioner of Education", Quinn stated and ended with a confident nod.

Santana threw a disgusted expression. "And you know this extremely useless information because?"

"Because I studied at Baruch College?", the blonde replied with a baffled look as if the connection is the most obvious thing in the world. When Quinn decided to give New York a chance, it was at the end of summer and too late to apply for schools in New York. To be more productive for the first semester while looking for something she really liked, Quinn decided to take up certificate courses in graphic design which she thoroughly enjoyed.

Santana sat at one of the park benches facing the river and stared at watched the barges passing through. "And I fail to follow the bouncing ball."

"Baruch is a sister institution of City. Come on. How can you not know this? Your best friend—no, your only friend—" Quinn paused and pointed to herself, "studied there for a year. So yeah, I know who he was". Quinn shook her head and chuckled when Santana threw her head back and played dead. "I'm done educating you", she ended.

Santana opened her eyes and sat up. "Then it's time to be resurrected", she said before sticking out her tongue cheekily. Despite the noise coming from the other individuals in and around the area, they immediately fell into a deafening silence. Santana was never comfortable with emotional talk, but knew she would have to act as Quinn's anchor. Her best friend, or as Quinn aptly stated, her only friend, had duck-like qualities – calm on the surface but paddling aggressively below. She has known Quinn long enough to decipher what is behind those hazel eyes that only sparkled for one Rachel Berry; they can be good and beautiful, but somewhere tucked in the recesses of Quinn's soul laid a flurry of intense emotions that had once led Quinn to the path of self-destruction.

The dark-haired girl took a glance at Quinn and noted how far their friendship had evolved into. From rivalry to outright animosity to how they are now, Quinn always held a special place in Santana's heart. They freakishly understood each other – both craved for affirmation but will never admit to it. The scared and insecure little girls inside of them never really grew up. Santana turned pensive and worried how much more pounding Quinn can take before breaking completely.

"Do you regret it?" Santana asked, finally deciding to break silence. "I mean, do you regret not going to Yale?", she clarified.

Quinn tilted her head and narrowed an eye while thinking about the answer. "I go to Fordham. It's not Ivy League, but it's got a good academic reputation."

"That…doesn't really answer my question", Santana retorted.

Quinn chuckled. "It does. I could've gone to Columbia and paid for it if it's all about being in an Ivy League. But. Fordham offered a scholarship. I'm being practical and forward looking. An undergraduate degree in Cultural Anthropology won't take me anywhere. I would need to continue on with a higher degree if I want to have it as a career. It would be nice if I don't end up in a lifetime worth of debt and continue the lifestyle I lead because my educational and trust funds are virtually untouched."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's the official statement. Still doesn't answer my question"

"Because you're too chicken to ask the real question behind your stupid question", Quinn pointed out. "You _know_ I don't regret going to Fordham. You _know_ I'm actually enjoying my educational experience."

Santana sighed heavily. "Okay. Do you regret having given up Yale _for_ Rachel?"

Quinn lowered her head and blinked a few times. "I don't want to answer that, because right now", she chuckled sadly then slowly wiped away a few stray tears. "…It just hurts so much, San"

Santana let out a shaky breath then scooted closer. "I tried", Quinn murmured as the Latina held her. "I tried so hard. What did I do wrong this time?"

The shorter girl closed her eyes and shook her head. It hurt to see Quinn so distraught. Santana held her tongue and reserved her thoughts for another day. "Quinn, you didn't do anything wrong. You fell in love. Nobody can blame you for trying, for wanting to be happy." Santana felt a grip on her shoulder and a slight nod. "I don't want to say things will be alright. But it _will_ get better"

"Do you regret it?", Quinn asked in between sobs. "Do you regret letting go of Britt?"

"No", Santana whispered. "I can't ever regret doing what was good for her." To this, she felt a smile against her shoulder. "She's doing so well in California", Quinn added. The Latina nodded but remained silent. She didn't want to point out the obvious difference between their respective situations. Hers was borne out of mutual love and respect – that both she and Britt knew they needed the freedom to grow; the distance between them would simply tie them up and eventually suffocate them. They parted ways as lovers, but nothing was really broken. She couldn't say the same for Quinn.

The blonde pulled away after several minutes and turned to stare blankly at the dark water. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, allowing the cold breeze to kiss her face. Santana noticed how Quinn subtly rubbed her knee. The temperature dropped dramatically in the whole hour that they've been sitting. She had never complained openly, but Santana knew that the leg Quinn broke due to the accident acted up whenever it got cold. It's the kind of pain that's dull and numb that most people would have found a constant source of annoyance. But to Quinn, as the Latina found out, it was a positive reminder of what she had gained from it - Rachel. Thus, if anybody bothered to ask the fiery Puerto Rican how Quinn Fabray turned out after the accident, she had a ready answer – a girl so in love, that she had her life orbit around the small diva.

And that was what Quinn did wrong, Santana thought.

Santana should have known that watching Quinn and Rachel's relationship progress was akin a train wreck waiting to happen. But it moved in a relatively slow pace that everyone who witnessed it – except Finn, obviously – saw it as natural and something that made sense. People rationalized the relationship; unresolved sexual tension they said, citing numerous incidents from the past to prove their point. Even Finn admitted begrudgingly that Rachel was _way_ too obsessed to get Quinn's approval for the longest time and even went through a phase of an inexplicable desire to know the blonde's kissing skills.

Santana saw it differently. Yes, Quinn had been attracted to Rachel longer than the blonde's own realization right after sectionals of that year. But the Latina strongly believed – and so did Quinn – that Rachel was far too wrapped up in her relationship with Finn to even consider anyone else, let alone her former tormentor. The Latina was certain that Rachel's infatuation was coming from a desire to _be_ like Quinn and not to be with her. It wasn't a question of sexuality but of aspiration. Rachel wanted everything.

The brunette diva became attached to Quinn's hip right after the accident. The wedding kept getting delayed week after week until her relationship with Finn deteriorated. Everything was over except the formal break up.

"_Rachel, honestly. You really don't need to do this." Quinn flushed in embarrassment while Rachel tried to navigate her wheelchair at the halls of McKinley on her return since the accident. "I can do this on my own", she murmured before ducking her head and covering her face with one hand. _

"_I know you can do this on your own, but the whole reason I re-scheduled your classes is precisely for me to be able to assist you anytime of the day". Rachel stopped at Quinn's locker then leaned over to look at Quinn. "I worked really hard", she whispered with a pout. _

"_My mom can hire a caregiver, Rach, if assistance is what you're concerned about", Quinn sighed. _

_Rachel's pout turned into a worried frown. "I know you probably don't appreciate my presence –" _

"_Don't be ridiculous", Quinn interrupted. "I just, you have a life, Rach. You can't spend the rest of the school year pushing me around campus". Quinn had never been as thankful for her long extensions as she reached for her locker combination today. If even for one second, she showed signs of difficulty opening her locker, Rachel would pounce on that opportunity to justify her cause._

_Rachel huffed and crossed her arms. "I want to do this."_

"_Well, we can't have everything we want, can we?" the blonde retorted as she took out a few books and in the process uncovered a photo of Beth. _

_The brunette's eyes traveled from Quinn to her line of vision. "No, we can't. But" Her attention shifted to a photo on the side. "What we can have, we take every opportunity to grab it", she said as she slid the magnet holder from her face to Finn's. "Especially when you know the outcome will be good."_

_The blonde pursed her lips as she quietly observed Rachel's no-so-subtle act of erasing Finn Hudson from their lives. She wasn't capable of moving her legs right at the moment, but if she was able to – and if dance was an expression of one's feelings – Quinn knew she'd be quivering like a hula dancer on drugs. _

_The blonde girl had tried to be sober about the break up and both have avoided talking about it. Quinn tried –the operative word being 'tried' – to feel guilty about the broken engagement. She was, after all, attempting to become a better person even before the accident happened. But she couldn't bring herself to empathize because every argument led to one point: Finn Hudson was never good for Rachel Berry. Well, no one would really be, as far as Quinn is concerned. But that was beside the point. All that mattered at that moment is Rachel implying that breaking up with Finn was definitely a good thing. _

"_You, taking care of me is a good thing for **me**", Quinn said. "How is it good for you?"_

"_I get to spend time with you", the brunette said with a toothy smile. "I've spent years trying to be friends with you, and now that we are, I'm taking this as a most timely opportunity for us to really get to know each other. I mean, we barely have half a year, Quinn!", Rachel rambled on with her hands flailing. "Then you're off to Yale while I'll be in New York. We need to establish a bond so that we won't grow apart."_

_Quinn stared blankly at Rachel then blinked with a deadpan expression. "Really, Rachel? We'd be a couple of hours away from each other. And we have the internet and cellphones these days. We can always text each other."_

_There was an awkward silence that followed after Quinn's statement. "Texting each other, isn't that what caused the accident?", Rachel thought. And Quinn knew, from the look on Rachel's face that it was her exact thoughts. _

"_Unless you want me to send telegrams", Quinn said and forced a smirk in order to lighten up the mood. _

_Rachel's eyes brightened, then jumped a little and clapped her hands. "Ooh, we could be like Rolf and Liesl from Sound of Music!" _

"_Dear Rachel. Stop.", Quinn began as Rachel started pushing her wheelchair towards their first class. "Thank you for taking care of me. Stop. Yours. Stop. Quinn "_

_Rachel grinned and played along. "Dear Quinn. Stop. We are sort of friends. Stop. No need to thank me. Stop. Always. Stop. Rachel"_

_Quinn laughed as Rachel started humming "Sixteen going on Seventeen". Truth is, while she acted all embarrassed, the former Cheerio loved how Rachel kept fawning over her these days. She had the beautiful singer all to herself regardless of what the circumstance was. When you are in love with someone, Quinn realized, it doesn't matter under what capacity it may be, but the sheer proximity is enough. It doesn't hurt that the person you're in love with had broken up with her fiancé and practically invaded your personal space on a day to day basis. _

_Finn Hudson be damned. The accident acted as a trigger for Quinn to let go of all her inhibitions. She had kept sober about her chances with Rachel. But the blonde became determined to make the brunette – who is currently wheeling her off to their classroom –feel so special that she would forget what it meant to love that awkward giant._

"San?"

"Q?".

"Take me home, now?"

Santana closed her eyes and muttered a short prayer before nodding and getting up. It's been a long time since she acknowledged God's existence. The uncertainty and brokenness found in one simple question forced the Latina to call on whatever deity was up there listening to them. Home is where the heart is, people said. But if that's the case, then Quinn will certainly be a rover for a very long time.

**P.s Thank you for the comments/reviews and the story alerts. Writing fiction does not come as a natural skill for me so I always look forward to reading constructive criticisms as it is the only way to keep improving. **

**Lcrazemag: My decision to write Quinn's provenance as Ireland is based on two things: 1) I met years ago (pre-Glee) an Australian who is a Fabray and of Irish descent. I do not know if the surname is really Irish though. And 2) There was an actual Samuel Fabray logged in at Ellis Island from New South Wales. (Plus, I would say Quinn is a very Celtic name )**


	4. Chapter 4

"_Baby needs a brand new pair of eyes. _

_Cause the ones you got now see only goodbyes"_

_- Sadly Beautiful_

* * *

><p>"<em>Quinn? Wake up". Hazel eyes struggled to open as she heard a familiar voice that should not however be present in her room. "Rachel?", she said, rubbing her eyes and trying to make sense of her surroundings. <em>

"_Your mom let me in", Rachel said with a smile that reached her eyes. "It's a beautiful spring day. I thought we could spend time at the park."_

_Quinn grabbed a pillow to cover her face and started speaking which resulted to a muffled whine. _

_The brunette crinkled her nose and tried removing the pillow. "Are you speaking Klingon again?"_

"_I said", Quinn huffed when the diva successfully removed the fluffy article on her face. "I don't wanna"_

_Rachel blinked and carried a deadpan expression at Quinn's display of petulance. "Wow, Santana wasn't kidding when she said you're cranky in the morning", Rachel said evenly. _

"_It's not even morning, yet"_

"_It's seven a.m"_

"_Is it a Saturday?"_

"_Yes, so?"_

"_THEN IT'S NOT YET MORNING!"_

Quinn jerked a bit when her alarm went off. She blindly reached from where the sound was coming from and grabbed her phone, quickly turning it off. She felt disoriented, like waking up from a dream only to realize she is still dreaming. She swore she heard Rachel's voice. But when she had collected her bearings and scanned the modern Japanese interiors of the room, reality struck her hard. It's been three days that she's in Santana's apartment. In that instant, her heart fell; her throat began constricting and felt the urge to throw up. Gripping the sheets underneath her, Quinn closed her eyes and began her breathing exercises – something she has learned from therapy to address her panic attacks as an aftermath of the accident – and thought of Beth. The thought of her little doppelganger always made her feel calmer.

After a few minutes, Quinn finally mustered the courage to get up and immediately caught sight of her reflection through the dresser mirror beside the bed. "God, I look awful", she muttered and instinctively combed her hair with her fingers. Wallowing in grief, however, was cut short as her ears perked up to the sound of something being fried coming from the kitchen area. The thought of Santana's cooking was enough for Quinn to get up without a struggle. If she's going to be depressed, she's determined to be depressed on a full stomach. Bless her best friend's heart, she thought to herself. Santana's in for a difficult time but the Latina seems to shrug it off as payback from helping her recover from her own break up with Britt.

"Good timing, Fabray", Santana smirked without turning around to look at Quinn who slumped over the counter sleepily. "Grab us plates and whatever"

Quinn groaned but nodded and obediently reached for a couple of plates, utensils and coffee mugs and carelessly placed them on the counter top that earned her an eye-roll and glare from the shorter girl. "Britt-Britt gave those to me, so I dare you break them, Quinn."

Quinn's eyes widened and sheepishly muttered an apology as she traced the Speedy Gonzales and Slowpoke Rodriguez designs on the two mugs. "She never really cared about the political incorrectness of that show", Santana chuckled after noticing Quinn's curious expression on the cartoon character choices. "She says she's Slowpoke Rodriguez", Santana added with a sigh.

"Nothing slow about Britt", Quinn added reassuringly. "You sure it's okay for me to use this?" She lifted the Slowpoke mug whose ownership became obvious.

Santana nodded. "You're the closest thing to having a sister", the Latina said while flipping the pancakes. "An annoying one, if I may add", she laughed, "So anything that belongs to Britt, you can use while you're here", she ended with a wave not particularly aimed at anything.

"Okay", the blonde mumbled while pouring coffee on her newly assigned mug in the Lopez apartment. She should have felt honored with her best friend's gesture, but she wasn't in the mood to celebrate. The token act of letting her use things that once belonged to Brittany meant that Santana had mentally prepared for Quinn's most likely permanent stay in her apartment.

Quinn sighed as she returned to her seat while the Latina moseyed over with pancakes and sausage on hand. "We should talk about my cost of living share", Quinn finally said. Nothing was really verbally arranged between the two of them. When she told Santana of her situation, the dark-haired girl opened her doors without questions asked. But now, with that simple statement, everything is out in the open and it tore Quinn's whole being.

Santana waved her hand dismissively. "Daddy dearest pays for the mortgage. We can share utility bills if you're being extra generous. But grocery should be fine, Quinn." Santana eyed the girl in front of her carefully as she nodded in response and sipped her coffee. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been trampled on by a dozen elephants", was Quinn's quick and refreshingly honest response. There's no point hiding with Santana. The girl read her like a book and would never accept any crappy answer from the other. "You know what makes this extra frustrating?"

Santana quirked her eyebrows and waited for Quinn to continue.

"I've been thinking last night, about what women normally do after a huge break up. You know drastic things to represent a major change? And I've pretty much done _everything_ before."

The Latina pursed her lips and hid her amusement through her mug as she found the blonde's aggravation particularly amusing. Clearing her throat, she decided to humor Quinn. "Like what?"

"Hair cut? Check", Quinn stated while she stabbed the poor sausage to death. "Change the color of my hair? Check. A tattoo? Check", she finished with a slight cringe at the memory of how painful it was to remove her Ryan Seacrest tattoo.

"One night stand with a manwhore that resulted to pregnancy? Check", Santana guffawed.

Quinn glowered but chuckled afterwards. "Switch sexuality?"

"Check", they said in unison with a laughter that bounced off the walls. "All this before 21", Santana quipped then raised her mug. "S'proud of you."

Quinn quirked the left corner of her lips and stared at her food. "Maybe I should take up bungee jumping or sky diving". Santana merely shrugged at this. "Or you can go out with me tonight and find a hot girl to have angry sex with. You had a one-time thing with Puck. About time you whore it out with a woman. I swear you won't get pregnant this time."

"I just broke up with her, Santana". Quinn was pointing out the obvious while avoiding acknowledging Rachel's name. "That's kind of the point, Q. And don't think I didn't notice you flat-out rejecting my suggestion", the Latina smirked.

Quinn never admitted it publicly, but Santana was pretty much the Oprah of her life. She worried about the appropriateness of the timing but "whoring it out", as the Latina eloquently described it, might just be what she needs right now. Her grief had been slowly turning into anger now that that the shock had been wearing off. Socializing outside the confines of her school was something that Quinn had shunned since she started in Fordham. For a good year while in Baruch, she had avoided acquiring friends completely. Her life revolved around school and home, with occasional dinners with Santana and Kurt. Her therapist had called it out as part of her manifested PTSD – the fear of stepping out of her comfort zone.

That had been a major source of strain with Rachel. The brunette immediately felt at home in New York, where for the first time, she felt genuine acceptance and not just tolerance. The confidence boost was quite evident as Rachel found herself crossing different circle of friends while Quinn remained distant and detached from the metropolitan life. The small diva was outgrowing her at a rapid pace, and Quinn failed to read the writings on the wall.

_Quinn rummaged through her bag to find her apartment keys then paused as she heard boisterous laughter inside their apartment. She sighed then composed herself knowing Rachel has brought home some of her friends from NYADA. Kurt was more than welcomed, but Quinn was never keen on her girlfriend's other schoolmates invading their personal space. Her apartment shared with Rachel is one she considered an extension of their intimacy, and for that, she never understood why the brunette was too open to accepting visitors. _

_She channeled Judy Fabray and immediately acted like the good housewife she planned to be as she walked in with a plastered smile on her face. _

"_Hey, Quinn", Rachel quickly stood up and hugged the blonde at the hallway while everyone waved at her. "Hope you don't mind having them over for dinner", she whispered then kissed Quinn's neck, knowing fully that this was her girlfriend's weak spot. _

_The blonde closed her eyes to avoid eye contact with Rachel. Most of the time, the color of her eyes give her mood away to Rachel and today won't be an exception. "It's alright. Do we have enough for…" She counted the individuals sitting on their living room floor and internally groaned, "six people? I can go and buy take out at Vermicelli"_

_Rachel beamed and shook her head. "No, it's okay. We brought food", she said before standing on her toes and kissing Quinn on the lips. "Then..", she wrung her hands together and smiled sheepishly. "…we thought we could go clubbing after."_

"_Clubbing", Quinn repeated in the hope that she heard wrong. But much to her dismay, her girlfriend nodded earnestly. "Who's going to take you home?", the blonde asked, careful to maintain a relaxed tone in her voice while taking off her shoes. _

_Rachel's face fell visibly. "I..I was hoping you'd go with us, Quinn." The brunette looked into Quinn's eyes expectantly. "I want to show off my gorgeous girlfriend." She followed Quinn in their walk-in kitchen and spoke in a hushed tone. "We've not really gone out since we moved here, sweetheart, and it's a Friday night. Plus, where we're going allows below 21, just that we can't order drinks. But that's alright because all I really want to do is dance a bit with you", Rachel rambled on. " It would be good for you to –" _

"_Don't even go there, Rachel", Quinn hissed before pouring a glass of water. "I've just been psychoanalyzed by my therapist. It's been a tiring day for me. I just want to curl up in our bed and read a book. I **was **very much looking forward to that."_

"_Quinn...", Rachel looked down with a guilty expression. _

_The blonde sighed and leaned against the sink. "I'm sorry. I'm just really exhausted. Can you go without me?" Quinn tucked a few strands of hair behind Rachel's ear as a peace offering. "I want you to have fun. And just because I'm not with you, doesn't mean you shouldn't. I promise to go with you the next time, okay?"_

That next time unfortunately never came. After several attempts and a dozen excuses later, Rachel finally gave up and went about with her night life without Quinn. There wasn't any reason for the blonde to take issue over it. Rachel went out with her friends every Friday night, never went home drunk, or went beyond her self-imposed curfew of 2 a.m. It was very predictable and safe. Quinn waited diligently at home then slept as soon as Rachel lies down with her. She never asked if the brunette had fun because she feared another argument about missing out on life.

"Alright", Quinn nodded emphatically. "It's a go for tonight."

Santana leaned back and studied Quinn's face. "Are you sure?"

"You suggested it, now you're asking me if I'm sure."

Santana buckled down. "Jesus, Quinn. I was just..I was kidding."

"Well, I'm not", Quinn responded resolutely. "She always complained about me not going out. Maybe it's about time I introduce myself to the world."

"Look, Quinn.."

"Are you going with me or not?"

The Latina raised her eyebrow at the blonde's challenging demeanor. "Right. I'm in. Someone has to watch out for you anyway."

Quinn scoffed then silently thanked Santana. She gazed outside the window and thought about her new situation. It's been three years of feeling unsafe and constantly dreading that she would never live a normal life. She thought it was still okay, as long as she was with Rachel. But now that she's alone, and fueled by resentment, she needed to know what it felt to be hunter and not the prey.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Thank you so much for the kind reviews. I'm in a bit of a conundrum, because to answer some of your questions would mean giving away the plot (including the huge break up), so if you can be a little bit more patient, that would be greatly appreciated. I do intend to keep this at a slow pace. Because the show, unfortunately, leaves us with very little character development, I do feel that's is all up to us to create a more multi-dimensional perspective, lol. **_

_**I'm also gunning for quicker updates, though I promise nothing. **_

_**And finally, I've decided to shift the rating to M for future possible subthemes. **_


	5. Chapter 5

_I wish I was in some lonesome valley. Where womankind cannot be found – Peggy Gordon_

"Look, I just really absolutely agree with his idea that power is ubiquitous. Our dispositions can't be counted as either structure or agent. Religion is _just_ one of the problems we have to address in order to change society's perspective on homosexuality. I mean, the fact that we still agree to label ourselves "gay" and them "straight", we leave the power for them to continually construct our language, thereby controlling our dispositions towards certain concepts"

Quinn was tipsy, that much Santana was sure of. The Latina, however, had nothing to worry about. For all her bravado, Quinn could never really follow through with a plan such as "whoring it out".

Dorking it out was more her thing.

And from where Santana was standing, whatever nerdy thing is spewing out of Quinn's mouth is working like a charm. Quinn, seated on a couch, was immersed in a conversation with an NYU's Graduate program on Global Affairs. A few undergraduates from Columbia eventually took notice of the seemingly deep discussion and sat around Quinn.

Only Quinn Fabray will find herself surrounded by women hotter than molten lava by invoking Pierre Bourdieu's name, and make the word "Habitus" sound sexy and dirty.

"Looks like your friend from Fordham's a hit. Glad you decided to bring her here"

Santana turned around and smirked at her fellow NYU student and organizer of this College LGBT mixer, Kate Weiss . It was the safer choice than any bar at the Village. Quinn was adamant to go in that area for reasons both did not feel the need to talk about – Rachel's circle of friends mostly hang out there – and so Santana opted for an event sponsored by her own college LGBT community.

"I'd say", the Latina agreed. "I can't stand intellectual orgies though. So I'm nursing my drink from a safe distance. You are welcome to join them."

"I probably will later, if I can manage to squeeze in her groupie. Sure you don't want to reach intellectual orgasm?", the girl teased.

"It always leaves me feeling empty", Santana retorted. "Go ahead, Kate. I'm just here to look out for Quinn."

The blonde beside Santana surveyed the scenario. "Doesn't look like she needs any supervision.." She then turned to look at the brunette. "You, on the other hand, I have not heard from you in ages."

"Ah, you know. Same old shit", Santana replied then turned her back from Quinn and signaled the bartender for another bottle of beer. "How about you? Still dating whatsherface?"

"Yes, I'm still dating whatsherface." Kate giggled and nodded. "I still think it's your loss, Santana"

"Maybe", the Latina shrugged. "If and when I get my act together, I'll give you a call."

The girl kissed Santana's cheek and whispered, ""I'll keep my line open, then." The brunette nodded and gave the girl a knowing and cocky smirk. Kate Weiss, Claudia Schiffer lookalike with the intelligence of a rocket scientist, had made it very clear that she would drop anyone anytime the Latina had changed her mind. The blonde stunner had expressed her attraction to her since the first month Santana started attending activities for the gay community in NYU. They have developed a weird pseudo-friendship, and despite their mutual attraction, neither girl wanted a casual thing, albeit for different reasons.

From an observer's perspective, Santana probably looked like the biggest idiot for repeatedly shooting Kate down. Not that it mattered to the former Cheerio. Kate Weiss wasn't Brittany Pierce. It would be very easy to try and substitute the real thing. But Santana made the decision that the only time she will start dating again, is when she had stopped comparing any potential partner to Britt. To others, it may have seemed like she was caging herself in her past relationship. But for the Latina, the acceptance that she will be single for some time out of her own volition felt oddly liberating.

She glanced at Quinn one more time and decided it was safe to leave Quinn for a few minutes. Stepping out of the establishment, she took out her phone and leaned against the wall. "Hey, Britt-Britt", Santana said with a smile.

Quinn was having a lot of fun. The most fun she had in months leading to her break up with Rachel. She took one more swig of Johnny and Coke – her favorite drink, she had decided that night – and allowed the brunette beside her to refill it. "Thanks, uhm…"

"Emily", the brunette said in a faint English accent, handing back the glass to Quinn. "Emily Carr."

"You've got a lovely accent, Emily Carr", the blonde grinned and leaned closer. "I would say…from Newcastle-upon-Tyne."

The brunette's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

Quinn poked her right temple twice. "English women in general are pretty. Geordie women, now, they're striking. And you are _the _most stunning woman I've ever had the privilege of meeting tonight. Ergo, you must be Geordie.", Quinn answered, looking visibly pleased at her logic. "Plus, the accent gives it away. Don't hide it."

"People here won't understand me", Emily chuckled and quickly hid her blush through the glass she was holding.

Quinn scoffed and crossed her legs while resting her arm on the couch. "I'd definitely understand you. I'm, in fact, looking forward to hearing you – "

"Oh-kay", Santana interrupted with a nervous laugh. She placed her hand on her best friend's shoulder and gripped it. "I'm sorry Quinn, but we have to go. I have an early day tomorrow."

"Aw, okay", the blonde nodded in understanding then turned to look at everyone around her. "I live with her, see?", she said, tugging the Latina's hand. "She's my best friend, Santana Lopez. We're like, friends since high school in Hicksville, Oh-ha-yow". The Latina chuckled then rolled her eyes, patting Quinn's shoulder gently. "But I'll definitely see all of you again, yeah?", the blonde winked, earning her a few new entries in her phone and a business card from Emily. "Cellphone, home phone and email", the British woman husked. "I'd like you to _not_ have an excuse not to contact me, Quinn."

Quinn threw her a lopsided smile that straddled in between cockiness and childish delight. No one has ever openly flirted with her before – except Rachel months before they became officially together – simply because she never allowed it to happen. It's a first and it's an achievement in Quinn's new book.

Santana held off going out for weeks, giving all sorts of excuses from headaches to school deadlines. It took a month and a half for the Latina to finally give in. The choice of venue initially left Quinn disappointed, having imagined being inside establishments Rachel went to. But the moment she sat beside that Emily girl and opened a discussion on postmodernism early on, she knew she was in the right place and made a mental note to thank her best friend later. She didn't even notice the number of girls who sat with them and injected their own ideas and conjectures until the very end. Quinn can't remember anymore how it felt to be popular and she had felt it at this occasion– but this time for less superficial reasons.

Across town, Rachel was curled up in her loveseat while Kurt sat on the carpeted floor, sharing a bottle of red wine. "I haven't heard from her since she left, Kurt", Rachel murmured then wiped away a few stray tears. She looked absolutely miserable, Kurt concluded. From the way her hair was carelessly put up in a bun, to her blood-shot eyes and red nose, it's been years since the he had seen his best friend looked utterly lost. "This place", Rachel waved her now empty glass around, "just feels so empty and huge. The silence kills me."

"So from what I gather, you miss her company, and not exactly her", Kurt opined. This earned him a stern glare from the diva. "No, God. I miss _her_", Rachel corrected.

The boy frowned in confusion. "But Rachel, I thought this is what you had wanted."

"I wanted a break, Kurt; a breathing space. I didn't…" Rachel breathed deeply and drank from her newly replenished glass. "I didn't want her to give me up completely."

"Well, did it ever occur to you that what you wanted broke _her_ heart?"

"I'm so selfish."

"Yes, you are, Rachel."

Rachel chuckled dryly. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours. And that's why I'm calling out your b.s", Kurt retorted. "For months you whined that Quinn was slowly choking you to death. That you often found yourself wondering what it would have been like if you ended up with Finn – I have a ready answer for that, but you won't listen anyway – so this is your opportunity to find out. Quinn has given you that, and the least you can do is, make her heartache worth the hassle."

"Feels so wrong…"

"Because it is wrong. You expect Quinn to _not_ give up on you completely while you explore your unfinished business with Finn? It is so wrong, Rachel."

"But you just said –"

"Doesn't make it right. But you're going to do it anyway. Quinn knew that."

Rachel shifted her position to directly face Kurt. "What do you have against your own stepbrother?"

"I have _nothing_ against Finn. I have something against you deciding to be with Quinn while continuing to harbor feelings for him. Had I known that, I would have never supported your relationship with her. She _had_ been very good to you, Honey. "

"She wasn't all angel, Kurt", Rachel retorted defensively.

Kurt nodded. "I didn't say she was perfect. Believe me, I know Quinn has a darker side than Darth Vader. But having said that, I still don't believe she deserved the level of dishonesty you gave her."

"It wasn't built on a lie, Kurt!", Rachel exclaimed. "I loved her. I still do. And honestly, I had never intended to blurt things out the way I did. We were so caught up in the heat of the moment, so angry at each other, I.."

"You decided to hit where it hurt the most", he finished.

The brunette looked away and nodded slightly.

Kurt sighed heavily. "I'll give you my honest to goodness opinion, okay? Don't hate me for saying this, because I do hope you know and believe that despite what I have to tell you, I love you and accept you for who you are."

Rachel glanced at him. "Okay", she said wearily.

"The thing with you is you want everything. Nothing really wrong with that per se. But with regard to Quinn and the accident, you wanted to placate the guilt that was eating you up. She didn't even blame you for what happened, Rachel. But you took it upon yourself to make it up to her." Kurt paused then continued when no protest came up. "You _knew_ she had feelings for you already at that point, and you _knew_ she would fall harder for you. You let it all happen. Finn broke up with you because in his simple mind, the fact that you kept delaying the wedding, and spent all your attention to Quinn meant you weren't interested in him anymore. Then, you were left heartbroken _and_ still feeling guilty. So you decided to be with the one who loved you more – Quinn. If you can't have everything, at least make sure that you don't end up alone, right?"

Rachel merely sighed and wiped away her tears in response.

"I don't really doubt that you love Quinn, Rachel. You can't spend three years with someone without an ounce of care present. "

The brunette nodded. "But?"

"But", Kurt let out a heavy breath. "But you've convinced yourself – no, wallowed in – the belief that you're only with Quinn out of guilt. You wasted so much time sinking in the" what if with Finn", failing to realize how much you have been hurting her. You've only thought of yourself all this time. Every hurtful thing she had said or done was magnified, feeding more of your obsession to look back in the past, justifying your comparisons between Quinn and Finn. You failed to realize you don't just love her. You've actually fallen in love with her. You have been since that summer after the accident. And I'm sorry for pointing out the obvious, Rachel. But you know you have screwed up; that there might not be a way to fix this with her. So you're telling me, and hoping to get my support, that you plan to reconnect with Finn."

Kurt stood up and squeezed himself next to Rachel, hugging her tightly. "I love you. But my answer is this, Rachel. Fuck you for even considering it. Finn is living a quiet life in OSU. Don't complicate his life, because he doesn't deserve it."

_**A/N: Hit the review button, you know you want to, lovely people (: **_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Just an Easter fluff update; a break from the drama, if I may. Thank you for all your reviews, comments and opinions. I feel really grateful that you have been participating in the process. I take all your views into account. **_

_**This chapter is a flashback. **_

_Please press my rec and play, 'cause I want to save this moment – Rec & Play_

"Well, look at you", Rachel grinned while watching Quinn step out of what used to be her father's den, and now her temporary room, using crutches as opposed to the wheelchair. It was a sight to behold. Rachel had never seen the blonde girl beam that way. "Santana told me to drop by ASAP. I thought something was wrong. I had no idea", the brunette stepped forward and extended her hand in case Quinn needed help.

"Thanks, but I want to get used to these things on my own", Quinn said then used her mouth to point at one of the crutches. "It's one thing to have a sprained ankle during my stint at cheerleading; it's another thing to have my knee cap busted." After a few moments of careful and deliberate small steps, she let out a sigh of relief after sitting down on their living room couch. "Okay, that felt **really **good but exhausting", she chuckled.

Rachel sat down next to Quinn and tucked away some strands of hair that fell on the blonde's face. "I bet. Anything I can get you? Water?"

"I should be asking you that since you're in my house, Rach." Quinn was clearly embarrassed by her seeming lack of hospitality. After all, she had been taught well by her mother on matters of etiquette. "How did you get in, by the way?"

Rachel gave her an incredulous look. "I've been keeping you company for a few months now, Quinn. Do you really still wonder? I know where your keys are hidden outside" She stood up and turned around to get Quinn a bottle of water. "And for goodness sake, Quinn. I really don't need to argue with you for the nth time on asking me for help." The brunette navigated her way to the kitchen like she owned the place and returned as quickly as possible.

"Thanks", Quinn muttered shyly. "They're going to take off the cast from my leg next month if things go well. I'll be using some form of brace and, of course, my trusty crutches. I'm glad I'm a fast healer. By the time I go to Yale, I'll most likely just use a knee support."

"How's everything else, though?", Rachel asked apprehensively.

"Everything's healing as expected"

"No, I meant…have you gone to therapy? Not physical, I mean"

Quinn shifted her position slowly, lifting her legs on the ottoman. "No, I..I haven't. I kind of wanted to address things one at a time. Physical therapy is taxing enough. And , uhm." Quinn twisted the bottle cap then took a sip. "I don't really have problems – I mean, I'm doing alright. I can sleep at night and you know." Of course she can sleep at night. Her mother had been giving her own pills to Quinn after a series of night terrors during the first few weeks of her return home from the hospital. But Rachel didn't need to know that. The last thing she wanted was for Rachel to think she's hooked on drugs. She wasn't at all. She had taken the pills a few times, but at most nights, she inexplicably can sleep well.

Rachel studied Quinn's face and begrudgingly agreed. For someone who went through a terrible accident – one that totaled her car no less – Quinn looked radiant. The blonde had no makeup on and could therefore not hide if she had been deprived from sleeping. Moreover, Rachel had stayed overnight several times for her to know whether the blonde was telling the truth or not. That did not stop the girl from worrying though. PTSD had been known to manifest months after a traumatic event. Just because Quinn had been doing well doesn't mean she won't feel the emotional and psychological effects later on.

Quinn squirmed under Rachel's gaze. "Uhm, yeah?"

"Nothing", Rachel smiled and shook her head. "I was just thinking how great it is that you have kept a very optimistic perspective. I'm proud of you."

"Well, you have certainly helped me along the way", Quinn whispered. "You've been a really good friend."

"I really wanted to be here for you." The diva placed her hand on top of Quinn's, then turned on the television as it had been their routine for some time now.

The blonde nodded then breathed deeply. "You've not really talked about your break up with Finn."

Rachel head snapped towards Quinn's direction, surprised at the sudden shift on topic. "What..what exactly do you want to know?"

"Is it because of me?"

"No, We – "

"I meant, because you spend so much time taking care of me.", Quinn clarified, wanting to be sure there was no room for misinterpretation. "I know Finn can be – "

"I promise it's not because of that, Quinn", Rachel interrupted, a little too quickly for Quinn's liking. "Will it be too insensitive to say your accident might be fate's way of saying I shouldn't get married to him?"

The blonde worried her lip and thought about how she would reply to her friend's question carefully because she's treading on dangerous ground. "I.. you know my stand on your betrothal to Finn, Rach. I don't really want to make of my accident anything except a moment of carelessness on my part. But I would be very honest in saying I'm not exactly devastated that you won't be marrying him."

"I may have seen a few fist pumps when you thought I wasn't looking", Rachel teased.

"Ha ha, very funny", Quinn deflected with an eye roll and a friendly shove but felt a cold shiver down her spine. She may have actually done a few celebratory upper body wiggles when Rachel had rebuked Finn on the phone for insisting to meet up while she was at Quinn's. She had always done it when the brunette's back was against her, but who knows if Rachel merely played dumb. The thought made her grimace slightly at her own immaturity.

"See? Guilty face", Rachel said with narrowed eyes and a finger pointing directly at Quinn.

"Whatever, Rach." , the blonde scoffed in her pathetic effort to downplay things. "Point is, he was never good enough for you. I've been consistent in saying he will only drag you down."

"Yes, I did recall you expressing clearly your plan to marry him just to prove **that** point", the brunette said matter-of-factly. "You really care that much about my future?"

Quinn tapped her fingers nervously on the armrest while pretending to find the television show interesting. "I care for all my friends, Rach", she breathed out, attempting to sound nonchalant.

"I suppose", Rachel turned her head to stare at the television as well. "You'd do the same for Santana."

"Of course. I've been known to be possessi – ", Quinn's face hardened at her own slip up. "Protective, I meant", she cleared her throat, "I've been known to be protective of my friends", she ended with a nod.

Rachel ducked her head and glanced at Quinn under hooded eyes. "It's alright to be possessive, too. I've seen it on you before."

The blonde slightly squinted. "Oh.", she quirked her eyebrows in understanding. "You meant, when I was dating Finn."

The diva hummed in response and stayed silent for a few minutes, allowing Quinn some reprieve from her friend's line of questioning."…So, would you attempt to date Santana's future girlfriend – in the event that she and Britt won't end up together – if you think the girl is detrimental to your friend's personal growth and development?"

Quinn sputtered like an old motor. "I – No, I mean – I can't really – you see—"

"Why not? Is it because you can't date a girl?"

"No, it's not that!" Quinn exclaimed with worried eyes. "I never said that"

"So you'd date a girl." It wasn't a question but rather a confirmation for Rachel. When she first heard Santana down at the hospital, the information barely registered as Quinn was fighting for her life. After a few days and they have calmed down a bit; she gathered the courage to ask Santana what she meant when Quinn was being sent to the Operating Room. Santana merely shrugged and said "Whatever it was you heard me say, I wasn't fibbing."

So Quinn didn't want her to marry Finn and that she would be the sole reason why the blonde would be fighting to stay alive. After piecing all the information together, of course it only led Rachel to one realization. At the risk of sounding egotistic, she concluded that Quinn Fabray was in love with her.

And that made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Rachel – being brought up in a very liberal environment at home – never really defined her sexuality on a conventional basis. The thought of being in a romantic relationship with another woman did not really occurred to her in the past; but that had been mostly because she continued to struggle with keeping a friendship with the same sex, let alone an intimate one. Women for her are mostly competition to things already considered scarce resources – love and fame, not potential mates.

But here is Quinn Fabray, former competition for love and popularity. Quinn Fabray, who once offered to give up her own future so that the songbird could spread her wings and fly away from Lima. Quinn Fabray, who almost died just to follow the diva's wedding request.

Quinn Fabray was in love with her. And this girl had shown time and again how much she was willing to go through lengths to give Rachel everything.

And that same Quinn Fabray is currently staring at her like she had grown a second head. "What?"

"I said..", Quinn spoke in a low whisper. "I don't rule out the possibility of, you know."

"Oh"

"Yeah"

"…"

"But that's not – I mean, with Santana. It's a different situation." Quinn cleared up.

"Because?"

"Be – Because, because Santana doesn't need anyone to do that"

"You think I do?"

Quinn chewed her lower lip and looked away. "Santana is much grounded in reality. Too grounded, if you ask me. You.. you're a dreamer, Rach. You live inside your dreams. And I love that about you. But sometimes…sometimes you need a good knock on your noggin just to get the message across."

"And you think you can do that for me. Be the sensible one in my life, I mean", Rachel whispered.

Quinn looked down to hide the burn creeping up on her cheeks. "It..doesn't have to be me. Kurt.." she looked up and smiled, "Kurt's very sensible, too"

"He is.", Rachel nodded in agreement. "but he's not half as pretty as you.", she giggled.

"What's that got to do with anything?", Quinn said in feigned annoyance.

Rachel bit her inner cheek."Nothing. I just felt like you needed to be ahead of Kurt over something."

"Ah. Thanks for boosting my ego."

"What I'm saying is, I want you to be that person. Not Kurt."

"But you never listen to me", Quinn protested.

Rachel smirked. "I don't listen to my **friends**, as a general rule."

"Yeah, so…" Quinn didn't finish whatever retort she had formed in her head. Math Logic had always been a favorite subject of hers and she was really damn good at it. Was Rachel throwing her a syllogism?

If Rachel doesn't listen to her friends.

And she wants Quinn to be the person she listens to.

Then.

Rachel doesn't want to be her friend.

There are two possible conclusions to this, of course, Quinn thought to herself. But the negative can't even be considered because Rachel hasn't run away. She was in fact moving closer. Very close. Like, scooting closer kind of close.

"Yeah, so..", Rachel parroted Quinn then smiled widely and chuckled. She took Quinn's hand, rested her head on the former Cheerio's shoulder and switched her focus on the television.

Meerkat Manor rerun had never been more interesting.

The blonde smiled back and shook her head. She had been in this position several times, with Finn, Sam, and Puck. It's a dance – a mating ritual even – that she knows very well. But never did her heart beat so loud that it had taken over all other forms of senses. She couldn't breathe. It was daunting. It made her want to cry and laugh and run a thousand suicides then be shot high up in the air by a cannon.

In short, it was glorious.


	7. Chapter 7

_The distance is spanned between you and I_  
><em>Can I see you tonight?<em>  
><em>When the pen in our hands and our best laid plans<em>  
><em>Will stand alone on our side<em>

_-Best Laid Plans_

"I'm sorry. I can't – ", Rachel slowly stepped away from Andrea, the girl she had been kissing for a good one quarter of a minute.

Andrea looked at her dumbly with her hand gripping the doorknob of her apartment. "But Rachel..". She sighed then nodded. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

Rachel's fingers were on her lips and carried a guilty expression, to whom, she's not exactly sure of. She shamelessly flirted with Andrea, ending their nightcap with a whisper of "I want to see your apartment". But she had been the one effectively putting a damper on what could have been a romp fest – something that she had been looking for ever since a friend texted her seeing Quinn with a "hot older woman" in an NYU-sponsored event.

How hot is hot and how old was old; she had to know details. Details that weren't necessarily important, Rachel scoffed. So the woman apparently was "extremely hot, about five years older, and was obviously so into Quinn", but her ex-girlfriend wasn't superficial and would never jump into someone else's bed for validation.

Oh. Wait.

Had Quinn been drinking? The answer was yes.

Not good. Definitely not good.

So she did the most sensible thing that she could think of. Call Kurt and open (and finish off) a bottle of wine, cry her heart out then come up with a plan.

There are several types of action plans. There is the long term, the medium and the short. The one thing she thought of, Kurt inevitably shot down and even cursed her to high heavens.

There is also a nice little thing called ad hoc.

So yes, she spotted the hottest girl at the Greenwich Treehouse the next friday (her gaydar was definitely working perfectly that night) and decided two can play the game.

Until she started losing.

She needed to get out of Andrea's apartment complex fast. "N-no, thank you, I—It was a mistake. I'm so, so sorry for leading you on." Rachel kept apologizing as she backed away and stepped inside the elevator. "I really am sorry."

Rachel let out a shaky breath then banged her head several times while chanting "stupid". Scampering away from the apartment building, the brunette subconsciously kept wiping off her lips with her hands. She felt dirty despite not actually doing anything.

"_Rach? Come in" Quinn propped her upper body using an elbow and turned her head a bit to see Rachel walk in her room. _

"_How did you know it was me?", the brunette smirked. After closing the door, she took off her shoes and climbed into the bed. _

"_Oh, I don't know. My Rachel Berry detection device went off.", Quinn retorted in a rather bored tone. She tried to ignore the diva's presence beside her and flipped the pages of the book she was reading. Rachel tried to peep through the blonde's shoulder. "What're you reading?"_

_Quinn swallowed thickly the moment Rachel's warm breath touched a part of her jaw and tried to ignore the pain coming from her leg for what occurred to Quinn as a bad position. She couldn't turn around immediately because of how dangerously close their lips were with each other. _

_They had been…Quinn wasn't sure exactly what they have been doing. They held hands, texted each other like the world depended on it and spent so much time cuddling while watching The Animal Planet. They've gone out and ate at the coziest restaurants (mostly Rachel's choice), conversed through Twitter (Rachel made one for her) and Facebook which annoyed Santana so much for "filling up her timeline with junk and they should just move on to sexting." Quinn often questioned if friends normally do this. It wasn't like she was popular in grade school, nor did she spend her time getting handsy with Santana or Brittany. So contrary to common misconception, she actually felt quite awkward when dealing with friends. However, she was more than certain that whatever it was that's happening between her and Rachel, it didn't fit snuggly in the friends-only category. _

_Rachel said she wanted her to be the sensible person in her life. Quinn even concluded that they __**were **__moving on to something deeper. But weeks after that incident, nothing really happened. The blonde was too petrified to even open a line of communication leading towards that. Something had to happen. But she dishonorably passed the ball to Rachel's side of the court. _

_Rachel's heart beat widely and she was pretty sure Quinn could hear it. Why Quinn hasn't made a single move to give any indication that she was remotely interested in some form of romantic entanglement baffled the petite diva. Quinn Fabray was the former so-called Head Bitch in Charge, but none of the required qualities to earn that position were showing. They have a few months left before the school year ends and Rachel Berry needed to know where the blonde would stand in her life. She can't take grey areas especially when it comes to her relationships. It was time, Rachel knew with absolute conviction. Her decision to drape an arm around Quinn's waist resulted to two things: she found herself pressed against the length of blonde's back and that when Quinn turned her head around and breathed out "The Book Thief", the brunette kissed the former Cheerios without hesitation. _

_It wasn't a function of physical difference. Sure, it was nice to taste strawberry lip gloss on soft lips. But more than that, Quinn **knew** how to kiss. She was confident without being overbearing, switched from being dominant to being dominated at the right moments. And when she dragged her teeth slowly over the brunette's bottom lip then grazed their lips together teasingly, Rachel figured out one of life's greatest mysteries: why the boys loved kissing Quinn; why Finn saw fireworks, why Sam always had a dreamy look on his face, and why Puck continues to pine over her despite repeated rejections._

"_Rachel." Quinn whispered then followed Rachel's movement when she leant back like the blonde was being pulled by a magnet. If only her knee was working perfectly, she would have been absolutely in charge, but Rachel kissing and being half on top of her, carefully avoiding her leg while pawing like a kitten on her chest, wasn't bad at all. In fact, she had decided right then and there, this was her favorite thing in the world. _

Rachel jolted a bit when she felt her phone vibrate inside her pant pocket. She scrambled to retrieve it while navigating her way back to her home and had to rub her eyes violently upon seeing Quinn's name flashing on the screen. "H-hello?"

"Rachel?"

There was always something about the way Quinn said her name and that moment wasn't an exception. Rachel stopped from her tracks and stood aside to avoid blocking other people. "Quinn.." She pressed the phone to her ear as close as possible and tried to figure out where Quinn was. The acoustic was very ambient with a few hushed voices surrounding it.

"How are you?

"I – " Rachel breathed deeply and leaned against the wall for support. "I've seen better days to be perfectly honest"

She heard Quinn chuckle softly on the other end. "What's the point if we're not completely honest with each other, right?"

Whether the blonde was simply responding to what she just said or was referencing something else didn't matter. It stung anyway and she felt like shedding fresh tears. After a few seconds of silence, Quinn realized the folly of her statement and began talking again. "So, listen. I'm here at Beanocchio, you remember? The coffee shop near Lycée Français."

"Yes, I remember that place", Rachel said quietly. If there is one area you'd find Quinn if you were looking, that would be Yorkville.

"If you're still out? I mean, I'm guessing you're out because it's a Friday night. I thought we can have coffee and maybe…talk". Rachel held her breath and deliberated on the wisdom of seeing Quinn right now. "It's been awhile and… and I miss you, Rach. I really do.", Quinn added knowing full well that her ex-girlfriend's mind was spinning with all sorts of possible scenarios in her head right at that very moment.

They haven't seen nor spoken to each other in barely two months. But for both girls, that's an eternity. Meeting up could turn all sorts of ugly, but the calm and warm tone Quinn used was enough to placate any misgivings on Rachel's part. "Okay, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. And..I miss you, too."

Rachel arrived and found Quinn at the farthest corner of the establishment browsing through what Rachel surmised as the latest electronic reading device. When she had a clearer view of Quinn, she couldn't help but smile to herself as she surveyed the blonde's look. The baby doll dresses were left in Lima and had been exchanged with either an Upper East Side Prep look or fully embracing a bohemian sense of fashion. You can sense what Quinn is up to depending on what she wore. And tonight, she was most likely reading for her majors. The blonde sported the Alexander Wang Beanie Rachel gave her on her last birthday, eyeglasses on, 3-button jacket and – oh. Rachel's eyes widened after realizing that Quinn was staring back at her with an amused expression.

"Hey, you", Quinn smiled. "Were you willing me to feel your presence?"

Rachel smiled back and sat down without waiting for Quinn's signal. "Did it work?"

"Kind of", Quinn chuckled. "What do you feel like having? My treat"

"I'm in the mood to be a little adventurous. I think I'll have their Café du Monde Latte", she said after stretching her neck out and read the menu above the counter.

The blonde nodded and stood up, allowing Rachel to perversely stare at her behind. The diva was objectifying her ex-girlfriend and wasn't at all ashamed of it. She thanked her lucky stars for backing out earlier to a one-night stand and considered this as a providential decision. She wasn't expecting reconciliation; she knows she won't be _that_ lucky. She wasn't expecting anything, but just a sign that Quinn had not totally closed herself up. And if the first few minutes of their interaction were any indication, there might still be a chance somehow, sometime soon.

Quinn returned with two cups of coffee and carefully placed them on the table before sitting down. "I wanted to share some good news to you.", Quinn beamed. Rachel straightened up and flashed her mega-watt smile. You know, the one that is anticipating a not-so-really-good-news in relation to her. She was pretty sure, for some reason, it had something to do with that hot older woman who shall forever remain nameless in Rachel's life.

"One of my papers in my sociology class was submitted to an international student conference in Bejing. I'm going to deliver my paper two months from now.", Quinn enthusiastically explained then bit her lip as if stopping herself from getting too excited over a major accomplishment.

Rachel's eyes were wide and her mouth agape. "Quinn, that's..that's _amazing_. I'm so proud and happy for you."

"I'll get to see the Great Wall, Rachel", the blonde said as she bounced a little from her seat. "And the Forbidden Palace, and the Tiananmen Square and.. and oh god, I hope I would have enough time to go see the Pandas.", she frowned slightly.

"Uh, Quinn? You're suppose to attend a conference, remember?", Rachel giggled.

Quinn scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue. "Yeahhh but how many times would I get to be in China? I don't imagine it will be a lot. So I _need_ to make the most out of it. While the school is still paying for my travel expenses anyway."

"Okay, okay", Rachel laughed then raised her hands up. "Don't come to me crying if they found out you turned this into a junket"

Quinn's smile grew wider then laughed. It had been a long time since Rachel saw that smile and it felt so good. They fell into a familiar sense of companionship during the next few hours inside the coffee shop. Nothing about their failed relationship was brought up. There was a time and place for that, and that night wasn't for it.

There was an unspoken rule that evening. Both carefully navigated their conversation to extremely safe zones and updated about their lives as if they had been separate from the beginning. It hurt a bit, but Rachel's determination to make things right with Quinn held a stronger place in her mind and heart.

Right then and there, she knew this was a good place to start.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: My next updates will be more focused on the reasons for the break up. Just for you to have an idea, in my mind, everything is a slow build up of disappointments and miscommunication – which for me are more crucial than Rachel's guilt-driven decision. I must tread carefully, so please forgive me if I take my time updating.**_

_**A/N 2: Once again, thank you so much for the alerts, favorites and reviews/comments. Keep 'em coming if you're in the mood. I really love reading your opinions about the protagonists' behaviors, decisions and dispositions. **_


	8. Chapter 8

_Jealousy is invariably a symptom of neurotic insecurity – Robert A. Heinlein_

_Academic Year 2012-2013_

She promised she would be friendlier and more amiable to Rachel's friends. But fate certainly was challenging her resolve. The girls were mostly Rachel version 2.0's and the boys were Jesse St. James' clones. She could handle them pretty well. But honestly, someone above must _really_ hate her because why had there been a Finn Hudson wannabe that Rachel failed to mention from the start?

Quinn sipped her wine, quietly seething and measuring up this Kieran Murphy who was awkwardly attempting to make Rachel laugh. No, he didn't look anything like Finn. It was worse because Quinn begrudgingly admitted to herself that he was better looking than the former quarterback. But the personality is what got to her, and as of that moment, he is her least favorite person in the room.

Rachel senses Quinn's tensed stance and slowly reached for her hand. "Are you okay, sweetheart?", she whispered while squeezing the blonde's hand. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, no", Quinn shook her head and squeezed back Rachel's hand for reassurance. "This dinner is important to you", she smiled softly.

The nice thing to being enrolled in an extremely exclusive school is the population alone allows students to bond with their professors who also act as mentors. NYADA certainly valued this kind of interaction. So this dinner was to celebrate the end of semester and they were in one of their professor's home. Bring your significant other was part of the invitation; Rachel wasted no time dolling Quinn up and the former Cheerio treated it as what could possibly be an ominous preview of things to come – namely, red carpet functions.

She certainly felt like a fish out of the water, or to be perfectly frank, like a dying piranha at the Amazon River banks during dry season. She supported Rachel and her dreams and had working knowledge on Broadway. But the discussions were too technical for her that she failed to follow the conversations switching from the Proscenium to Cattle Calls. She once again, tried to channel her mother by smiling and nodding politely – something she had witnessed so many times when her father used to bring his colleagues at home for dinner.

The night would have been relatively easy to endure – the food was certainly gastronomic, Rachel allowing her to draw patterns on her thigh under the table – if not for that Kieran. He wasn't flirting; Quinn knows what flirting entailed. Rachel barely even acknowledged his existence as she noted that brunette was more concerned about making her comfortable. He was just really your average doofus with a dopy smile and gangly physique. And that's _really_ what makes her hate this unassuming guy who had done nothing to deserve the torture scenarios in Quinn's head to pass the time away.

Quinn's attention snapped back to the dinner table when she heard her name and Yale being mentioned in one sentence. Ah. Her girlfriend was bragging about "_the_ big decision" as the brunette fondly and proudly named it. She looked down and tried not to laugh at Rachel's overly dramatic account of how it happened. Quinn honestly felt it was an unspectacular moment resulting from an obvious choice. New Haven was merely a a couple of hours commute by train from New York. In principle, not-so-long distance relationships these days should not have been a problem given technology. But Quinn didn't want to take any chances with her very new and still vulnerable relationship with Rachel. It was a no-brainer, really. Yale, be damned. She would follow Rachel to the moon and back if need be.

"_I can't believe your doctors were right on target", Rachel grinned as they waded at Sugar Creek Fishery. The manager was a good friend of Judy and allowed them to hold a picnic in the farm and get their feet wet along with all the Koi being raised for pond owners. Anxiety had begun taking over with the uncertainty of the last summer days and so the blonde decided to pluck the diva out of her normal routine and environment._

_The former cheerleader started walking a few days ago without the braces and wore the typical knee support used by most athletes recovering from injuries. Rachel and Quinn were both ready to be in NYADA and Yale respectively and none have spoken about a system to get them by given the distance. Will they Skype every night? Should they get unlimited call plans or limit to texting? Are they supposed to alternately visit each other every weekend? If Rachel had her way, Quinn ought to be texting her every hour but she could never demand that. She's hyperaware of her tendency to be clingy and even for just their friendship alone, the brunette would never risk any chance of annoying the blonde. _

_Rachel allowed her mind to wander off a bit to a time when she and Finn were planning their life together in New York. She could have been Mrs. Hudson. A part of her felt relieved that the wedding did not push through. There was that nagging doubt that led to asking Quinn for advice, in the first place. It was that doubt that drove her to insisting Quinn to be in her wedding because it meant that for whatever misgivings everyone had on the union, her presence would have meant some form of legitimate approval. The blonde made very valid points, though Rachel now wondered what was Quinn's state of mind that very moment; more importantly, she wondered if the that advice was meant to stop her from marrying Finn simply for her own sake, or if there was an ulterior motive. But whatever the case may be, the tiny diva decided that it must have been so painful for Quinn to have been told of the news and the thought alone made Rachel's stomach churn. _

"_Rach? Earth to Rachel", Quinn chuckled as she snapped her fingers. _

_Rachel blushed then ducked her head. "Sorry", she mumbled. _

"_It's okay…penny for your thoughts?" She worried her lip while watching Rachel's face visibly deliberate on her response. Things, in general, had been good between them. They have yet to have their first major fight despite officially (but not publicly) dating for four months – an achievement for both of them. They spent most times just talking, and the remaining hours getting to know each other in a slightly more physical manner._

_There were, however, moments when Quinn would catch Rachel off-guard with a distant eyes and conflicted expression. The blonde knew it had a lot to do with Finn. No matter how Rachel tried convincing her that the break up was a mutual decision. Quinn was not naïve enough to believe that Rachel wanted to end things with Finn. She saw it in those deep brown eyes; the want and need to be with him. Most of the time, the blonde felt lucky that she saw affection from Rachel, however, there are just days when the diva looked at her with a mixture of odd curiosity and – something her mind violently tried to reject - pity. _

"_I'm not going to Yale", Quinn blurted out before Rachel could give her answer. _

"So, Quinn. You chose love over Ivy League. How romantic", one of Rachel's classmates sighed dreamily.

Artists. Everything is romantic for them. Even a dropped sandwich lying on the subway can be romantic for them.

Quinn forced herself out of these thoughts. Great, now everyone's attention is on her."It..it was an easy decision, to be very honest.", she said quietly. "I don't think I can navigate through life without Rachel." It was not the whole truth. Quinn can find her way out of the Amazon jungle. But the blonde knew saying "because I'm scared that Rachel will run back to Finn, so this is my version of keeping her on a tight leash" would not have sat well with anyone. There was collective swooning, Quinn believed. But she didn't really have time to process the information because Rachel leaned forward and kissed her in front of all the people.

"Wow", she whispered against Rachel's lips.

"Looks like Quinn will get lucky tonight"

There you have it. The moment killer courtesy of Finn 2.0. Now, Quinn had a legit reason to hate him.

"Real appropriate, Kieran", Kurt said dryly then rolled his eyes and threw a sympathetic smile at Quinn. She smiled back. The rest of the table chuckled awkwardly.

Quinn and Kurt had not exactly seen each other eye to eye for the most part of their high school life, though their interaction was on the principle of modus Vivendi. The engagement of Rachel and Finn gave them some form of weird and unspoken alliance though it became strained after David tried to kill himself. Quinn still maintained the belief that suicide was never an option, and had continued to harbor some resentment over Kurt's dismissal of what she had gone through.

Their friendship was tentative at best. She wouldn't exactly run to him for advice – she trusted no one but Santana – but at the very least, Kurt seemed to have an inkling of Quinn's fears and insecurities.

"I'll have you know, Kieran, I am the one who feels extremely lucky coming home to her every night", Rachel quipped while subtly rubbing Quinn's arm. "And waking up to this lovely face in the morning."

Really?

Quinn fought the urge to turn into a bright red tomato. And Rachel _just_ didn't notice how her girlfriend's hand tightened her grip on hers. "She was our high school's prettiest girl." She then turns to Kurt, " you'd have to back me up on this one." The boy was about to agree but Rachel cut her off. "No, on second thought, I think it's pretty obvious. "

Grip tighter and maybe she'll stop.

"…And she's going to Fordham next year. Cultural Anthropology, am I right, sweetheart?"

Nod. Nod and smile politely.

"Not to mention that she is a kitchen goddess."

Trophy wife.

Kurt glared at Rachel and that immediately made her shut her mouth then giggled.

And because we love each other, right? Right?

The brunette squeezed Quinn's hand. Quinncentric conversation over.

Pretty soon the night was also over and one by one people left the venue. Quinn's mind was going haywire while Rachel rambled on about nothing and everything.

Will she really get lucky tonight?

They've never had sex. Anyone who would become privy to that information would look at her incredulously. After all, they did share an apartment together since they arrived in New York.

Both agreed to take it slow from the start. Mostly, it was a function of capability. Quinn's knee was still busted when they first started dating until the end of summer. But what was the excuse this time? Rachel had initiated several times but Quinn declined claiming she wasn't ready.

You can take the girl out of a Lutheran Church, but you cannot take the Lutheran out of the girl.

Sex was an act of love and until she was sure Rachel loved her, she refused to further become intimate. Santana had called her out on that several times. Emotional blackmail. But Quinn countered it by saying she never pressured Rachel to say she loved her.

And it's not like she's ever told Rachel she loved her, either. She was crippled with fear that the brunette will not say it back. She _knew_ Rachel would not say it back.

Slow was an understatement. And communicating about it was a scarce commodity.

So they literally slept together in one bed. Their situation was more akin to two friends who occasionally make out.

Rachel, on the other hand, simply attributed it to Quinn's upbringing. That was much easier to accept than to start thinking that while the blonde loved her, she didn't _want_ her. That could happen, she reasoned to herself. Quinn may not be physically attracted to her. After all, the former HBIC did spend some time insulting her physical attributes. This is the first time that she had been in a relationship where her partner's hand stayed firmly on her hips. And that was very confusing.

The more Quinn declined her advances, the more she was swayed to her own logic and so she had temporarily stopped groping her girlfriend's ass whenever things got a bit heated. She would wait for Quinn to take the initiative, and if that little thumb rubs on her thigh she received while having dinner was a sign? Well.

Rachel smirked to herself. Walking beside her is Quinn Fabray – currently (and adorably) trying to loop their arms together– _the_ most beautiful girl she had ever known. Being in New York had not changed her opinion; in fact it had gotten stronger. Her girlfriend was Grace Kelly incarnate with a dorky personality. She didn't know if anyone else's girlfriend can top that.

"D'you want to stop for coffee, first?", Quinn jerked her head towards the direction of a coffee shop.

"Mmm…I'm in a mood for some Café Au Fabray", Rachel responded, feeling particularly proud of her cheeky remark. But when the blonde raised her eyebrows and blinked several times, the brunette's eyes widened and blushed profusely. "I- I meant, I wanted you to make me coffee at home", she giggled nervously. Quinn bit her inner cheek to stop herself from laughing. She knew better than to tease an already embarrassed Rachel, albeit self-inflicted. Clearing her throat, she nodded and rubbed the brunette's wrist. "Do you have plans tomorrow?"

"Nothing specific. Why?"

"I thought we could go to the Met? There's a new exhibit on Egyptian artifacts"

Rachel scrunched up her nose. "You and your fascination with old things. I hope there aren't actual mummies."

"If there were?"

"Then my stomach will ache at exactly 9 a.m tomorrow"

Quinn laughed raucously. "There won't be any mummies. So you can delay your scheduled indisposed state for another day."

Rachel smirked and nodded. "Quinn, I'd like to thank you for keeping me company tonight. I know how uncomfortable –"

"Rach, you don't have to thank me. Like I said earlier, I know this is important for you"

The brunette nodded again then furrowed her brows. "So…why do you not go out with me with my friends?"

"Nothing to do with your career", Quinn said curtly. "And you know I don't like bars and pubs; especially any establishment that plays tugs"

"tugs?"

"You know, tugs, tugs, tugs. All you hear is bass."

Rachel howled with laughter that slightly mortified Quinn as fellow pedestrians glanced at them curiously. "Quinn, that is the most adorable thing _ever._"

"What?", Quinn protested. "But it's true! The music – if you can even call that music – is _annoying_"

Rachel looped their arms together as they turn around their street's corner then popped her shoulders and moved her head side to side. "Tugs, tugs, tugs"

"Oh my god, Rachel. Stop that!", Quinn chuckled and stepped away from the brunette. "I don't know you."

"Aw, come on, Quinn. Show me your hip hop moves! One more time. Tugs, tugs, tugs!"

"Shut up", the blonde cackled then playfully shoved Rachel who seemed to be more determined to tease her. The bantering went on until they reached their apartment and the diva decided to try it one more time. "Okay, so if tugs music", she smirked, "is a no-no. I know lots of places where music and atmosphere are more your type."

"Rachel, you don't even know what my type of music is", Quinn said softly while preparing coffee.

"Yes, I do". The diva frowned. Did the blonde just imply she was not the least interested in her girlfriend's interests? That pierced Rachel's heart. "Give me a little bit more credit, Quinn."

The former Cheerio scoffed. "Rea—"

"You have a fascination – no obsession – with World Music." Quinn snapped her head towards Rachel's direction. "You like browsing through, and buying digital music from cdbaby dot com for independent artists. And just the other day you kept humming TwentyFourSeven by that UK garage techno band Artful Dodger." She crossed her arms and looked down. "Just because I don't know three fourths of the artists in your playlist, doesn't mean I don't try to appreciate them."

"Rachel..", Quinn stepped forward. "I'm sorry. I didn't – I wasn't –"

"It's alright, Quinn."

"No, it's not", the blonde said as she held Rachel's wrist who tried to turn away. "I'm sorry", she mumbled before kissing the brunette's shoulder. "I didn't mean to snap at you that way."

"It's not.." Rachel breathed in. "It's not that, Quinn. I need you to have some faith in me."

"I do", the blonde hugged from behind and kissed the back of her head. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I swear."

The smaller girl sighed. "Okay." She turned around slowly and stood on her toes, kissing Quinn softly. "Less tugs and more vuvuzela, yeah?"

The other girl chuckled and nodded, "Yes, something like that."

"Just the two of us, first. Okay? Maybe with Santana, if you want"

Quinn chewed her lip. "Okay."

The smile on Rachel's face lit up the room. She then yanked the taller girl's hand. "Serve me up coffee in bed?"

Apparently, Kieran was somehow right. After Quinn placed their coffee cups on the night table, she found herself fumbling as Rachel pulled her in their bed aggressively then gave her frenzied kisses that the blonde had tried to fend off. "Rachel..Rach—wait. I'm not—Oh god, that feels amazing."

Letting go of Quinn's lobe, Rachel whispered huskily, "We don't have to do things you're not ready to do. We can take it one step at a time. I'll navigate for us."

Oh. So Rachel did like what she said earlier. _Very_ much.

Quinn nodded in response.

Meanwhile, somewhere, Martin Luther was shaking his head.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Click the comment/review button and let me know your thoughts (: Have a good day. **


	9. Chapter 9

_I want to trip inside your head_

_Spend the day there..._

_To hear the things you haven't said_

_And see what you might see_

_Miracle Drug_

Academic Year 2012-2013

_She felt her body burning and her throat closing in. With one final attempt, she mustered all the strength left in her and tried to break free by smashing the window. She climbed out of the driver's seat and toppled over. _

"_R-rachel", she gasped as she struggled to get up. "Rachel!"_

_She saw the brunette unconscious in her seat. She crawled her way to the passenger side then tried to pry the door open. "Rachel! Rachel! Wake up!", she screamed as she pulled the car door handle with everything she had. _

_She felt someone drag her out of the car's vicinity. "No, no", she kicked and pulled her weight down. "No, I've got to get Rachel out! No!"_

Rachel scrambled to turn on the night lamp then kneeled beside her girlfriend. "Quinn…Quinn..", Rachel gently tapped her girlfriend's cheek. "Quinn..honey. Wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Quinn thrashed her body then flinched. "No, please…no..Rachel."

The brunette felt her hand getting wet and saw tears coming out of Quinn's still closed eyes. Out of panic, she started shaking the blonde's body. "Baby. Please. Wake up. Wake up."

Quinn jolted up and clutched her chest as she gasped for air. Rachel immediately cradled her girlfriend with a bone crushing hug. "I'm here. It's okay. It was just a dream."

"Rachel", Quinn whispered as she shakily clutched the brunette's arm. "You're safe. You're okay."

Rachel hummed then gently wiped the sweat that covered the trembling girl's forehead. "I'm safe", she whispered back. "We're both safe."

Burying her head against Rachel's chest, Quinn tightened her grip on her girlfriend's arm. "It was so real. It was so real."

The brunette responded by rubbing the blonde's back for comfort. "I'm going to get you water, okay?", she said after noticing Quinn's labored breathing.

"No." Quinn clung onto her like life depended on it. "Don't go"

"Okay, okay. I'm not going anywhere". Rachel kissed the top of the blonde's head and held her until she visibly relaxed. She then felt Quinn untangle herself and curl up on her side of the bed. "Quinn?" She didn't hear any response except a stifled sob. "Quinn, honey", she murmured and spooned the crying girl. "I'm here. I'm not letting go."

As promised, Rachel didn't let go the whole night. She fought off the urge to cry as well as she couldn't bear seeing Quinn so vulnerable and pained. She propped herself a bit and observed the former HBIC sleep in a fetal position. The crash had left very minimal visible blemish on the girl's body (at least from what she had been allowed to see, so far), but the tiny diva knew that the scars ran deep and there's very little she can do except to be there for Quinn.

Morning wasn't any easier for the young couple. Rachel woke up to the smell of something being fried and instinctively reached out for Quinn's side of the bed for confirmation. She quickly stood up and rushed to the kitchen, then leaned against the door frame. She knows they would, once again, ignore the issue, or she would have to force a conversation which normally did not end up in a civil manner.

For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to enjoy looking at Quinn's tousled hair, wife-beater and Darth Vader jammie bottom.

"Enjoying the view?", Quinn smirked while scrambling the tofu.

"Yes. There's nothing sexier than staring at Darth Vader on my girlfriend's rear", the brunette responded dryly, dragging her words slowly with each forward step until she was right behind Quinn. "Smells good", she mumbled while pressing herself against the blonde's back and sneaking her arms around.

"Scrambled tofu, just the way you like it"

"With lots of Shiitake mushrooms?"

"Mhm"

"And green peppers?"

"Yup"

"Aaaand Tabasco sauce?"

"Definitely"

Rachel kissed Quinn's shoulder then mumbled against her skin, "Best. Girlfriend. Ever."

"Yes, because you sure had a lot to compare me with", the blonde chuckled.

Rachel rolled her eyes and let go of Quinn so she can pour a cup of coffee. "I'm not the only one with a girlfriend, Quinn. I don't hear my friends or classmates talk about their girlfriends change their eating habits – without being told to, mind you – or better yet, make a huge effort to prepare meals 24/7 for their high maintenance partner. "

"Okay, one", Quinn turned around to face the brunette while holding up the spatula. "you're not high maintenance. And two, it's just a matter of respect. I'm the more flexible one so it makes sense that I'm the one to adjust."

"You do know you _can_ eat meat, right? You can fry some bacon if you want some. I just won't eat it."

"I don't want to offend your religious beliefs."

"I belong to reform Judaism, Quinn. Some members – and I'm one of those – don't really follow keeping things Kosher. I don't eat meat out of ideological and health reasons, not religious."

Quinn frowned and stared at her pan. "Well, thank God, because I don't know if my kitchen ware is Kosher"

Rachel laughed then shook her head in amusement. "It's sweet, but you don't have to worry about that."

"Reform Judaism…", Quinn mumbled as she nodded to herself.

"Pretty much like Progressive Christians?", Rachel offered. "They're very inclusive and liberal in their interpretation of the Scripture, right?"

The blonde nodded in understanding but remained pensive.

"Have you…found a church yet?", the diva asked hesitantly then took a sip from her cup. Religion is a sensitive issue. While they never talked about it, Rachel had an idea of how hard it must have been for Quinn to first reconcile her beliefs with her best friend's sexuality, and then now, hers. Lutheran churches had been divided – just like most Christian denominations – on LGBT rights and issues, and the brunette was aware that Quinn's church was one of those who left the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America in favor of a more conservative stance on gay pastors and gay marriages.

Quinn shook her head while plating their breakfast. "I haven't the time.", she explained tersely.

"I can look for you, if you want?"

"Uhm, no. Thank you but I'd rather look for one on my own."

Rachel pursed her lips. "I understand. It is a very personal thing. But Quinn, do know that even in our Temple, you'll be welcomed."

"I.. yeah, thank you. That's good to know", the blonde smiled slightly before kissing Rachel's cheek. "Breakfast's ready, darling.", she whispered sweetly before bringing the food on their dinky dining table.

"So, any plans today?", Rachel looked at Quinn expectantly before scooping some of the scrambled tofu.

"I have a schedule with my acupuncturist after lunch.", Quinn said nonchalantly.

Rachel squinted. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Acupuncturist. In Chinatown."

"You… have an acupuncturist."

"Yes. Dr. Yaoshen Cai."

"For your knee?"

Quinn nodded. "Don't look at me like I've grown a second head, Rachel. It's an acceptable form of alternative medicine. And it actually makes me feel good."

"Since when? I mean, since when did you start poking needles in your body? And why am I just being made aware of this now?"

"I just started last week", Quinn protested.

Rachel glared at the blonde then rambled with her arms flailing. "Okay, but I'm sure you've thought about it prior to last week and you've done a lot of research and consultations. So, again. Why am I just being informed _now_?"

"It's just. Acupuncture, Rachel", Quinn muttered, genuinely confused at Rachel's reaction.

"It's _not_ about that per se. You're making decisions on your own and leaving me as a footnote."

Quinn opened her mouth to object but she was cut off by the seething diva.

"And more importantly, why are you so open to alternative medicine, yet you've been completely rejecting my suggestion to see a psychiatrist?"

Quinn glowered and balled up her hand. "Why the hell do I need a psychiatrist?"

"Because you've never addressed your PTSD, Quinn! Last night wasn't the first time, and surely won't be the last!"

The blonde gritted her teeth and banged her hand on the table as she stood up. "I'm _okay_. I don't _need_ to pay someone to make me feel horrible about myself. You're doing a fine job at it."

"What..What do you mean? No –", Rachel stood up as well. "Don't you turn your back on me, Quinn." She tried to follow the blonde in the bathroom but her girlfriend slammed then locked the door before she could get in. She twisted the knob several times then knocked. "Quinn. Open the door. We need to talk about this."

"What do you mean I'm doing a fine job making you feel horrible? Quinn. Come on.", the brunette pleaded as she stayed in front of the door. "What did I do?"

Rachel heard the shower and a muffled, "Nothing. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Quinn..", she sighed then leaned against the door. "You wouldn't have said that if you didn't mean anything by it."

It took another 30 minutes of nothing except the sound of water splashing. Rachel knew Quinn was lingering in the shower in hopes that the she will give up and walk away. But the stubborn girl in her also knew that any minute longer and Quinn will turn into a pink raisin and so she had no choice but to step out of the shower. She smiled despite the situation when she heard the blonde twist the shower knob and heard the sliding door open. She stepped away from the door when she felt the knob unlocked from the inside. "I know you're still there", Quinn whined.

Rachel slowly opened the door and poked her head inside. "Can we now talk?"

"Yeah, okay", the blonde mumbled.

Rachel put down the toilet cover and sat on it as Quinn went about drying her hair with a towel. Rachel's eyes raked over her girlfriend's towel-clad body before forcing herself to look down. "I'm sorry for reacting the way I did", she said quietly while wringing her hands together. "Quinn, last night was particularly alarming."

The blonde stopped combing her hair then sighed. "It's not an everyday occurrence, Rach."

"But—"

"Look, I promise if it gets worse, we'll look for a doctor." The blonde knelt in front of Rachel and kissed her knuckles. "I'm sorry. I know my temper can be..I'm trying to be less volatile. And most of the time, I don't mean what I say."

"Okay", Rachel nodded. "Were you always this..snappy? I mean..I know I can be very annoying – "

Quinn placed a finger on Rachel's lips and shook her head. "It's me, it's something I have to work on." She then cupped the brunette's face and kissed her softly. "You're not annoying. I promise."

Rachel let out a shaky breath and nodded again. "You promise to tell me if I'm doing something wrong? Because Quinn, I'm worried and I want to help and be there for you."

"You have nothing to worry about", the blonde smiled reassuringly.

Rachel pouted. "I'm still worried about needles poking you. Are you sure it's sanitary? They don't recycle those needles, do they?"

Quinn chuckled. "Oh God, Rachel. I don't go to some seedy backdoor establishment. My physical therapist recommended him."

"Do you go through session wearing something like _that_?"

The blonde looked down. "Wearing a towel? Well, yeah. Why?"

"Then I want to accompany you later."

"You're kidding, right?"

Rachel shook her head emphatically. "Do I look like I'm not serious?"

Quinn shrugged. "Well, okay. Don't get to queasy though. I don't want you ruining his Chi or whatever by making comments and squealing the whole time."

Raising her right hand, the diva swore, "I promise to behave. I just want to make sure he's not going to do anything funny."

"Funny, like what?"

"Like leer at you."

"You're jealous of my acupuncturist."

"I'm not jealous, I'm being concerned."

"Right. Of course.", Quinn nodded and smirked. "I appreciate that."

Rachel played with Quinn's towel end that was neatly tucked to hold the cloth around her body. "If I catch his eyes linger on your body unnecessarily, we're out of that clinic right away. Deal?"

"Deal", Quinn promised.

"And if you get another nightmare, we'll go to a psychiatrist. Deal?"

The blonde closed her eyes and pursed her lips. "Rachel.."

"…please?"

"Okay", Quinn swallowed. "I promise." She wasn't sure if she was nervous of the huge promise she just gave or the fact that her girlfriend has yet to stop playing with her towel. So she hurriedly stood up then kissed Rachel's forehead before making her way to their walk-in closet.

Rachel lived on four facts relating to Quinn since she moved to New York.

Fact number 1: Quinn can be the sweetest person in the world whenever she decided to be.

Fact number 2: Quinn is the one person in her life right how who can hurt her so bad.

Fact number 3: Quinn had done number 2 several times already.

Fact number 4: Number 2 and 3 don't matter much because of number 1.

She sighed while she silently watched Quinn get dressed through the corner of her eyes.

New facts.

Number 5: Issues are beginning to pile up. But Number 1 once again gets in the way.

Finally, Number 6 (and by no means connected to the others): She's increasingly becoming sexually frustrated and it looks like it's going to be a fact for a very long time.


	10. Chapter 10

_Everybody's talkin' 'bout_

_Wanting that and needing this_

_I'd just like to know_

_If you want to learn a different kind of kiss_

_Where Life Begins_

_New Year's Eve Academic Year 2012-2013_

She took a mental note to _never_ believe any erotic literary submissions on the internet again. _Sweet nectar, my foot_, she thought to herself. It wasn't sweet; it was, in fact a bit salty and had a distinct smell but (thankfully) wasn't strong enough for her to gag. It just tasted and smelled like, well, she supposed it how a vagina should taste and smell like up close and personal.

Quinn, therefore, could not decide whether she liked how Rachel tasted. The blonde, however, _loved_ how her girlfriend was reacting to every flick of her tongue; with the brunette moaned, writhed above her and occasionally called out her name in the sexiest way imaginable.

The road that led the former celibacy club president in between the tiny diva's legs was far from sexy. They had a huge fight that morning resulting to an epic diva storm out – something Quinn had not witnessed in a very, very long time. The more disconcerting aspect of their argument was the root cause of it – sex. Or rather the lack of it that Rachel had attributed – and finally verbalized – to Quinn's inability to find her attractive.

It was a few hours before New Year's Eve and they had just returned a couple of days ago from Lima. As much as Rachel missed her fathers, she also didn't want to miss her first New Year's countdown and ball drop at Times Square. The fact that she had someone to share a kiss with made it all the more a must for her to be there. Quinn, on the other hand, was just as glad to be back for entirely different reasons. After visiting Beth and giving her a dozen gifts that she squirreled away since she arrived in New York (she had often found herself fantasizing about bringing Beth to F.A.O Schwartz and play the big piano), she dreaded spending time with her family.

It wasn't that Quinn's relationship with Judy was broken. The accident had allowed her mom to do some serious examination of their affinity– something that had been in the works since the older blonde filed for divorce against her husband – but was once again slightly strained when she caught Rachel and Quinn making out. _That_ wasn't a good situation to be in, Quinn realized. Her mom walked right in her room with the brunette on top of her and the blonde's hands wandering dangerously on the singer's behind. Believe it or not, Quinn understood the disappointment. She wouldn't want to catch her own future daughters to be in such compromising position. For the young Fabray, of course, it didn't matter whether they are gay or not; but Quinn knew that she would turn into a murderous bitch if she finds _anyone_ topping her children that way.

But she wasn't reprimanded or threatened by eternal damnation. Something worse happened. Her mom cried and said nothing. Any average teenager would tell you they would rather have their mother scream like a banshee than to be given the silent treatment. Quinn would have chosen fire and brimstone over knowing her mother's heart was once again broken for something she had done.

But the younger blonde had no choice but to stay in Judy's home. She felt it would have been inappropriate to have insinuated herself in the Berry household when she lived one community away. It wouldn't help her relationship with Judy, either. So despite the discomfort, and tensed environment, she spent her holidays in a house that she never felt like her home, exchanging pleasantries and ignoring Quinn's relationship with Rachel.

Pre-Christmas lunch with Russell was no different. When the blonde's father invited her to meet up, she decided to see him at a restaurant in the mall. The more public, the better. The man was too concerned with orthodox societal norms that he would never dare utter in a place full of people anything relating to Rachel. He was, after all, a gentleman who is above reproach on the outside and a bigot only at home. There was no conciliatory gesture. It was more of a business meeting than anything else - a complete financial and academic report. Interestingly, her father was more pleased with the fact that she had been taking up graphic design than her initial plan to enroll in Yale's theatre program. He wasn't at all very happy when she announced her plans for a career in the academe and research. It was really baffling to still have financial support from him, but Quinn wasn't about to question that right now.

Even without his support, Quinn had been very clear that she can make it on her own. It helped her case that Judy - despite their differences - was more than willing to spend for her. Lesbian or not, her mother was determined to keep Quinn out of Lima and be the woman she will never be. While, it was a rather complex relationship between Judy and her daughter; with Russell it was a straightforward parental obligatory interaction. In this manner, Quinn found it easier to deal with her dad. Emotions don't come easy with the blonde, let alone stare it straight in the face.

Which is what kind of happened at Christmas dinner with the Berrys.

Somewhere between eating the Moroccan couscous and dessert, Rachel got into a heated discussion with her fathers when Hiram "inadvertently" made a patronizing remark about Quinn's graphic design talents that extend to bathroom walls. No, Quinn never got the Hiram Berry seal of approval, but it was the first time he had made a direct scathing remark about Quinn's past bullying ways. That effectively ruined the whole night and Rachel accusing her fathers of being hypocrites was the cherry on the top. Quinn tried to placate Rachel's tantrum, only to be on the receiving end of the diva's ire for not standing up for their relationship.

Quinn wanted to skip the Glee semi-reunion the night after because seeing Finn interact with Rachel just made her want to sulk for a whole year. Her mood was pacified when Puck brought along Beth - donned in the cutest Santa Claus outfit - as Shelby's Christmas gift for Twuinnie (being charitable is apparently a genetic thing).

Quinn didn't miss the way Rachel's eye lit up when her ex-fiance walked in the restaurant. Worse, she didn't appreciate the diva's glares thrown her way because she was apparently "acting all family-like with Noah". Rachel had the gall to remind her of their last summer when Puck made a last ditch effort to be with the blonde. It took all of Quinn's restraint not to bite back and bring attention to Rachel's own feelings for Finn. It was overall a shitty holiday filled with bickering, and parental issue, so the last thing she wanted was for Rachel to start reassessing her devotion to their relationship.

Needless to say, the journey back to New York was quiet until they got home when Rachel took out her Christmas gift for Quinn - something she failed to give because of the Berry household drama and the jealousy-fest. Quinn cried after opening the box (who wouldn't cry at a complete collection of 12-inch Star Wars PEZ dispensers that play the movies' music?) It was the best gift she had ever received in her whole life. She suddenly felt pathetic in terms of her gift for Rachel – a framed The Barbra Streisand Vinyl Album – because it was an easy and obvious choice. The brunette passionately protested the blonde's sentiments and tried to ease her worries by kissing her senseless.

Quinn found herself pinned down to the bed with Rachel straddled on top. The former HBIC swallowed thickly as both measured up one another, waiting for signals and for the other to make the first move. The brunette broke the stand-off, leaned down and planted feather-like kisses on Quinn's lips, hoping to tease the girl beneath her, enough to make a more aggressive move.

It worked and earned an internal smirk from the diva. As she was about to pull away, Quinn slightly sat up onto her left elbow then used her free hand and cupped the back of her head drawing their lips together. Rachel melted into the kiss and ran her hands over the blonde's body, feeling Quinn's muscles twitching at each touch. It encouraged the petite girl to slip her hand under her girlfriend's shirt when she felt Quinn gently sucking her tongue. Because Rachel felt no objection, she sneaked her hand around and played with the bra hook for a few seconds. Once more, no sign of disapproval from her girlfriend – who was very busy sucking on her neck - when she unclasped it with ease.

By that time, both have earned higher degrees in teasing and making out and almost about to earn doctorate degrees in unfulfilled sexual urges.

Quinn was apparently hell bent in getting her diploma as soon as possible.

It was still fine when Rachel cupped her breast and teased the nipple to a hardened state between her fingers. Quinn was making all sorts of noises then bit a particularly sensitive area on the brunette's neck. This prompted Rachel to sit up and lifted her shirt above her head and threw it behind her.

That was the moment Rachel realized she was dealing with an alien life form.

An average reasonable person would find this a turn-on especially since they were in a relationship. Quinn, however, placed her hand on Rachel's thigh, looked straight in her girlfriend's eyes and shook her head. "I'm not –"

"Ready", Rachel finished before grabbing her shirt and crawled out of bed.

"Rach..", Quinn whispered as she watched the now fuming diva walk out of their room then storm back after she had put back her shirt on. Quinn blinked a few times and was rendered immobile when she saw tears were streaming down Rachel's face.

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and let out a shaky breath. "I don't mind waiting, Quinn. I really don't. It gets frustrating at times but my respect for you is stronger than any need for physical intimacy. I just –" She exhaled loudly then forced herself to look directly at Quinn. "I wish you'd tell me _why_ you aren't ready. If it's really for religious reasons, I will accept it. But somehow, I don't think letting me have some fun with your upper body is biblically acceptable."

Quinn felt her face flush with red. But before she could even gather her thoughts, Rachel once more spoke in a very small voice. "I want to understand, Quinn. Are you not attracted to me?"

Quinn's head snapped towards Rachel's direction and did what she realized later on as a relationship no-no – she let her mouth gape then laughed softly. "Rachel, you can't possibly be asking that question.", she said and gave an incredulous look.

"Really, Quinn? That's all you're giving me?", she shook her head in disbelief. "I had thought you took me more seriously than this."

Quinn's smile fell upon realizing the folly of her actions. "No..Rach, I'm sor—"

"You're sorry", Rachel nodded. "What are you going to do next, Quinn? Assure me you didn't mean what you said or did. Turn into your usual adorable self and make me forget? Because you know you can."

Quinn frowned as she stared at her lap. "No", she whispered. "I didn't mea—", she shut her mouth and sighed. She was boxed by her past actions and now she had no idea what to do except to keep silence. Rachel took the silence as another attempt to just sweep things under the rug, so before her temper could flare up again, she grabbed her coat and purse then left their apartment.

Quinn slumped down onto the bed, stared at the ceiling and chewed her lip. _Well done, Fabray, _she heard an extremely sarcastic Santana in her head. "Stupid", she mumbled and slapped her forehead. "Stupid, stupid, stupid", she repeated with each slap before reaching out for her phone and tried calling Rachel but her call went to voicemail. Begrudgingly admitting that Rachel would need space and she needed the time to gather her thoughts, Quinn decided to let go for awhile.

Meanwhile, somewhere between 49th and Fifth, Santana's ear was burning from Rachel's voice at the other end of the line. "Jesus, Berry. Hold your horses. I'm at Saks. Meet me at Café SFA in a few minutes." After ending the call, she immediately sent a message to Quinn.

_Your woman is on the warpath. What the fuck did you do, Quinnie? Call Barbra the worst artist on the planet?_

Quinn sighed after hearing her phone buzz. She had a nagging feeling that she won't like what she'll read. True enough.

_How did you know she's angry at me?_

Santana shook her head and wondered why she's in the middle of this lover's spat.

_She called me up and asked to meet up with me. _

Quinn read the message twice and panicked.

_Don't get yourself involved in this. Please. _

The Latina rolled her eyes and typed furiously.

_Too late for that, blondie. I had been involved ever since you confessed your inexplicable affection for Rachel. I will try my best not to give all your secrets away. But if Rachel offers to buy me lunch, well, I'd have to rethink my loyalties. _

The blonde growled out of frustration.

_I hate you. _

Santana chuckled to herself then swiped the smile off her face upon seeing Rachel enter the restaurant from the corner of her eye.

_Thumbelina has arrived. Will report to you later, Captain. Over and out. Oh, and p.s you love me. _

"This better be so important for you to take me away from my shopping day", Santana said in an attempt to sound annoyed. But when she looked up and saw Rachel, she decided that wasn't the best time to tease the smaller brunette. "You look like shit." Oops. She couldn't help it, apparently.

Rachel sighed then sat down. "I know I look like..crap. You don't have to state the obvious."

"This is very weird", the Latina said as she called the waiter's attention for a menu. "I mean, you rant to pixie boy and Fabray runs to me for my advice. You're ruining the balance of the force."

Rachel grimaced. "You didn't just reference Star Wars."

"I did. And your problem with that?"

"Nothing. I just didn't realize Quinn had that much influence in you."

Latina snarled. "Hey, what makes you think _she_ influenced me and not the other way around?"

"Well, no—"

"She used to make me watch it when I sleepover", Santana sheepishly admitted.

Rachel smirked. "You know, I've always been curious as to what you do in your sleepovers." She points a finger at Santana. "And don't look like it's a weird thing to think about. A lot of people were fascinated with the two of you."

"Because we're two of the hottest girls in McKinley.", the taller brunette nodded with satisfaction.

"Well, that. And because you both held power, and had a very odd friendship."

Santana laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Mhm."

"What normal girls do in sleepovers, Rachel."

Rachel thought about it. "Watch movies, eat popcorn and talk about boys."

"Yeah. Well, not so much boys. I didn't talk about boys."

"She knew.."

"No, hell no", the Latina chuckled. Santana suddenly was reminded of Quinn's meltdown at their stint for Nationals in New York junior year when the blonde automatically assumed she was offering sex. "I mean. I certainly didn't tell her. But hindsight, yeah I think she had an idea and respected that."

Rachel had always been fascinated with the bond between the two ex-Cheerios. She had always imagined that when these two were alone, all masks were taken off. Quinn wasn't Brittany for Santana to hide her feelings or convince her that sex wasn't dating; and Santana wasn't Rachel. They were so different but so much alike at the same time.

"Quinn is a lot more complicated than you and I combined", Santana muttered.

Rachel smiled. "Am I that transparent?"

"Yeah, sort of.", she shrugged. "To begin with, Rachel, the way she grew up affects her even if she refuses to admit it. You may have an unusual family set up, but it's not dysfunctional. Quinn's family had always been dysfunctional. You try growing up in that kind of environment, and it'll screw up your mind good."

"I'm vaguely aware of her family life, Santana. It's not something we talk about. I know what everyone else knows. Her father threw her out when she got pregnant, and then the divorce happened because of infidelity."

Santana sipped from her drink then sighed. "It's not even those things that have a terrible effect on Quinn. It's the seemingly benign things that accumulate over time. She's like a sponge, Rachel. She absorbs everything."

"Like how?"

"Like, her dad had this habit to talk down on her mom in front of guests. Quinn had never forgotten those moments. Or the fact that she had never had a decent conversation with her parents without vodka present."

Rachel nodded in understanding and let Santana continue.

"So forget about the fact that they turned their backs against her at her hour of need. I haven't even begun telling you how she was treated when she _was_ Lucy. I don't think that's for me to say in the first place."

The shorter brunette nodded again, trying to understand everything so far. "Quinn never really felt loved."

"No. She never did. So even if, guys like Finn or Sam, or Puck showed something remotely close to love, Quinn never really recognized it. Until she had Beth. I think that was her eureka moment – what love meant. So it's no wonder she went berserk after giving away the only thing that made her feel human. For her, everyone else had placed a lot of expectations on her. When she gives it, they want more. And if she fails to fulfill it, they will be disappointed. Beth wasn't like that, of course."

Rachel frowned. She didn't like where Santana's logic was going. "And with me?"

"What you have to understand, Rachel, Quinn is the most insecure person you'll ever encounter", Santana said in an effort to deflect the diva's question. "If you want to, you'd have to at least reassure her that you're with her because you want to be. Not because of any ulterior motive."

"I am with her because…because I want to."

Santana narrowed her eyes at Rachel's hesitation but opted to say nothing about it. "What did you two fight about this time?"

"This is kind of embarrassing and very personal."

"Sex?"

"Yes", she blushed. "Or lack thereof"

"What about it?"

Rachel's eyes widened at Santana's nonchalance. "You know about it. I mean, she talks to you why we haven't."

The Latina propped her elbow then rubbed her forehead. "Why do you think she's been refusing to?"

"Because she's not attracted to me", she whispered sadly.

Santana frowned deeply. "Where's this coming from?"

"From the fact that she had been very critical of how I looked from the start? I've tried so hard over the past few years to move past that. I don't hold any grudges. But every time Quinn rejects me or pulls away when we start to get intimate, I can't help but feel ugly in her eyes again."

"You told her this?"

"I started to. Then she laughed."

"She fucking what?"

"She laughed."

Santana groaned and shook her head. "Okay, I admit it's not the best reaction. And I don't want you to think I'm saying this out of blind loyalty, alright?"

Rachel nodded. "Okay. I'll listen first."

"I'm guessing – this is just really a guess – she reacted that way because out of all possible reasons why she refuses to have sex with you, that's the least plausible. She's so attracted to you, it's bordering on psychotic."

"Maybe emotionally –"

"And physically." Santana interjected. "Listen, I know we called you all sorts of names and—"

"And Quinn drew horrible pictures of me"

Santana leaned back and watched Rachel nervously tuck some hair behind her ears and refusing eye contact."You really believe this shit."

The smaller girl nodded and blinked back her tears. "It's a bit difficult not to believe. Santana, Quinn is the most beautiful girl I've ever known. Anywhere we go, people turn and look at her. A part of me feels so proud, but, there's also a part of me that just makes me feel so…small. She doesn't have to do anything, yet people gravitate towards her. I have to sing just for someone to see that there's something special in me."

"Quinn doesn't make you feel special?"

"She does.", Rachel smiled. "She does little things everyday that makes me feel special. But you know us girls", she points to her then Santana, "we sometimes want the positive affirmation that we are beautiful in someone's eyes."

Santana quirked her eyebrows and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but whatever the reason is; I can guarantee you it's got nothing to do with that."

"Then, what is it?"

Santana raised her hands in front of her chest. "That's something you two should talk about."

"If I can get her to talk", Rachel whined.

"You two need joint counseling or something"

Rachel glared at Santana and looked scandalized. "We haven't been together for a year. Those are for old couples."

"Yeah but you have old couple problems. Lack of intimacy, difficulty communicating, yup. Definitely old couple problems", the Latina teased then became silent for a moment. "I can't give Quinn away. I want to live just a bit longer. But just read between the lines, got it?"

Rachel sat straight in a meerkat-like fashion and nodded earnestly. She decided to hold her tongue and not tease the Latina about her revelation that she feared Quinn. Rachel wanted to live a little longer, too.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Quinn wants you badly. But there are things that hinder her from giving herself to you. If you can show her that she wouldn't lose anything, but rather gain more, then you'll be resolving this. And I'm not just talking about sex. I'm stopping right there. Figure the rest out by yourself." Santana raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. "Now, buy me lunch."

Rachel didn't go home that night and stayed with Kurt because "she needed to process things". At least that's what her text message said. Quinn spent the whole night accusing Santana of all sorts of things believing that it was their lunch talk that made Rachel refuse to come home.

Quinn was resigned to the idea that we she will spend New Year's Eve alone and miserable. She literally tripped over the hall runner when she saw Rachel sitting on their couch that morning. "Rach..you – you're home.", she stuttered while crawling to catch the runaway apples from her grocery bag.

The brunette rushed over and crawled under their dining table and gave handed over the last fugitive fruit. She sat down on the floor and waited for Quinn to return from the kitchen. "Did you hurt your knee?", she asked quietly.

"It's fine." Quinn sat down next to Rachel rubbed it. "How's..how's Kurt?"

"Kurt's okay. He's attending this New Year's Eve party somewhere. I didn't listen much to his plans, to be honest."

"Oh.", Quinn pursed her lips. "Do you, uhm, do you want to go somewhere? I can ask Santana. I'm sure she's, uh, she's aware of some parties that we can get into."

Rachel looked up and into hazel eyes. "I still want to go to Times Square with you."

Quinn fought the urge to grin. Instead, she took Rachel's hand and played with her fingers. "Times Square's good. We can do Times Square. I'll… I'll make us hot chocolate then, uhm, put them in a couple of vacuum flasks and –"

"I'd love that", Rachel whispered. Her heart felt like bursting at how Quinn remembered a conversation they had on celebrating New Year's Eve. "I like how you make them." She began tracing the dark circles around Quinn's eyes. "I'm sorry for running away like that."

"It's okay. I mean..I understand."

"Do you?",Rachel said softly.

Quinn wrinkled her nose then and shook her head. "Not really."

"That's okay. I don't understand myself most of the time, too"

"But I love you, anyway"

Quinn stiffened and held her breath. There it was, finally. Out in the open. In the most unromantic way she could think of. She wanted earth to open up and swallow her whole.

Quinn liked thinking. A lot. Because the nice thing about thoughts is that it stays in your mind and you can control and manipulate it without any interference. But the moment you say it out loud, you become the slave. You can't just take it back or change it, and all you have to do is wait. Wait for a response that you can't control yourself. She waited for the shit to hit the fan.

But that didn't happen.

Rachel held the contour of the blonde's jaw forced her to look directly at each other. "I love you, too."

And that is how Quinn let go of her fears and finally explored the unknown. Or rather, how she found herself fully naked and at the receiving end of the most mind-blowing experience in the world. They made love for the first time and second, and third, until they have forgotten about the ball drop and all other plans. They didn't need to because when the clock struck 12, both saw fireworks.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I decided to make this chapter longer for one simple reason: I'll be out of the country till next week. Thanks for your time reading this ^_^**


	11. Chapter 11

_I don't need to feel this way for you_

_But I do and I feel satisfied_

–_-Satisfied_

Quinn turned around when a familiar voice called her name on the way to NYU's Washington Square Campus. "Kurt! Oh wow. What…what are you doing here?"

"I can ask you the same thing", Kurt said smiling as he sprinted towards the blonde. "I have acquaintances in Tisch and I'm meeting some of them today. How about you?"

Quinn cleared here throat and smiled back nervously. "I…well, I'm meeting a friend here, too."

"Oh", the boy said with a knowing nod and a grin. _The hot older woman_, he thought.

"Quinn, there you are."

_And she's British_.

Kurt and Quinn both turned around to where the soft voice was coming from.

_And she __**is**__ hot_.

Kurt was absorbing every piece of information he can get about this mystery woman. His eyes measured the girl from head to foot.

_This woman is pure perfection_, he noted as the British woman pranced to their direction.

_Someone's going to get a huge bout of insecurity_.

She then proceeded to kiss Quinn's cheek. "I'm sorry I'm late. You know how some professors can be."

_A freaking huge bout of insecurity_.

Kurt's eyes were as huge as saucer plates and had a smirk plastered in his face as he observed the interaction between his former teammate and this classy-as-Kate-Middleton woman in front of him.

Quinn ran her fingers in her newly styled hair – a throwback to senior year, Kurt realized. "That's alright. I haven't been waiting long."

Emily glanced at the gawking boy in front of them and smiled nervously. "Hi?"

Kurt gave a little wave then extended his hand. "I'm Kurt Hummel. Quinn and I went to the same high school."

The brunette took his hand and shook it. "Ah, in Hicksville, Oh-ha-yo", she chuckled then gave a meaningful glance at Quinn. "Emily, Emily Carr. Pleasure to meet you."

The blonde's face burned at the memory of her drunken antics while Kurt gave her a questioning look. "It's nothing", Quinn waved off then scratched the back of her head nervously. She cleared her throat again in an effort to avoid any further awkwardness. "So uh, I'm ready to go if you are."

"Yes, actually.", Emily smiled.

_Even her teeth are perfect. Not human. _

Much to Quinn's aggravation however, Emily turned to Kurt and smiled. "Would you like to join us? We're just going to grab a bite and afters."

"Uh, no. Kurt's meeting a friend", Quinn interjected then glared at the boy.

"Oh, well, let's see." Kurt took out his phone and saw three missed calls from his friend. "Nope, she just texted and said she had something very important to do. I'd be happy to join you." he grinned then rocked back on his heels.

Obviously ignored, Quinn sighed and offered a silent prayer before followed Emily towards the school parking lot with Kurt beside her.

Emily turned around and walked backwards. "Is Spanish okay with everyone?"

"Si, senorita", Quinn mumbled, still lost in her thoughts.

"Usted habla el espanol?"

The blonde looked up and smiled shyly. "Un poco."

Emily raised her eyebrow and smirked. "Ah, then. Desde que te conoci no hago nada mas que pensar en ti."

The blonde's face flushed with red and looked down, tucked her hands in her coat pockets and nervously flapped the material. Kurt's mouth resembled a Venus flytrap as he watched in amazement the interaction between the two girls. He had little knowledge of Spanish but he was willing to bet his best pair of shoes that whatever Emily said was a full-on Spanish flirting phrase.

The blonde subtly glanced at Kurt, hoping to catch his eye and give him a warning glare. Quinn had no time to talk with Emily about Kurt's position in her life and had no way to stop the British woman from playing with her. She supposed that the best thing to do is just talk to Kurt later on but had no idea what good that will do. If she knew the boy at all, in just a few minutes, Rachel would already be aware of what's happening. She was pretty sure that Kurt will be "live texting" as the dinner happened.

A surge of defiance suddenly came over Quinn as she gazed at Emily. She had nothing to worry about. Rachel and she have broken up and she's free to see whoever she wanted to see. It's _not even a date_, she reasoned out to herself. _Stop worrying_. Breathing deeply, she slightly puffed her chest and exhaled the guilt out of her.

They drove quietly to Pipa Tapas Bar at 38 East & 19th with Kurt busying himself with exploring the interiors of Emily's Jaguar. "You like cars, Kurt?", Emily asked while smiling from the rear-view mirror.

Quinn turned around and sneered at Kurt who looked like he was caught red-handed. "My dad was a mechanic, so I was just thinking how he would love to see this car.", he responded, raising his brow at the blonde in a smug manner.

"Was? Is he..", Emily asked carefully.

Kurt straightened up. "Oh, no", he chuckled. "He ended up in politics. He ran and won for a congress seat when Quinn and I were still in high school. Now he's busy with his foundation that helps gay teenagers in Ohio."

"Impressive", the British woman said. "He sounds like a very interesting man."

"Yes, he is. Unfortunately, he's married to Carole.", he giggled. Kurt was obviously testing Emily without being blatant and got what he wanted when she laughed softly and shook her head, "I'm sure Carole is very lucky to have him. But no offense, Kurt, I will never be interested in your father."

"Oh, I was just teasing. He's _way_ too old for you."

"Well, there's that. And I'm not interested in men in general."

Kurt threw a Cheshire cat-like grin first to Emily, then to Quinn who tried to keep a poker face. "Ooh. How nice.", he hummed while lacing his hands together on his lap.

As soon as Emily found parking Kurt was inseparable from the woman, leaving Quinn behind sulking and muttering curses under her breath. "Quinn? You alright?" Emily asked with concerned eyes. "You've been very quiet. Are you sick?"

The blonde shook her head and forced a smile. "I'm alright. I'm just…hungry", she reasoned out. Pathetic, but plausible excuse, she thought.

"Well, I made reservations so we shouldn't have any problems", Emily nodded reassuringly.

Kurt briefly wondered what the age gap is between the two ladies when the British girl gingerly pressed the back of her hand over Quinn's forehead to check for fever. The former certainly didn't look old but carried an air of maturity and seniority next to the blonde. Information began pouring in—much to Kurt's delight—as Emily spoke casually about her life in Newcastle during dinner.

Her family was deeply rooted in the North east region and gained prominence –and without having to say it, wealth—through the coal industry that once flourished in that area. Her father was an executive in a multinational company based in the city and her mother was a professor at the University of Newcastle. She had two older brothers and a younger sister. They lived in India when she was a child, received first class honors at the School of African and Oriental Studies or SOAS at the University of London, and before she decided to take her second Master's degree –the first one being in SOAS as well— Emily was a United Nations volunteer in East Timor. She was a woman of the world.

Though her family was not initially happy when they found out about her sexuality, they have come to a level of acceptance and is at the point of pressuring her to settle down. But Emily waved it off. "I can't see myself settling down right now. I have so much to do with my life.", she said softly while pouring sangria on Kurt's glass. "Besides, no one gets married at 30 these days."

Quinn's eyes flashed with annoyance for a second. "That's not true", she said quietly. "Age has nothing to do with commitment."

"And you know about commitment?", the other girl looked at her with interest. "You're 21, Quinn. No offense, but you've barely seen anything outside your hometown and Manhattan."

Quinn frowned and sipped from her glass. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Everything", the older girl said.

Kurt's eyes darted back and forth from the two women in front of him. The tapas was good and it certainly was meant for a spectator.

"I don't believe in having to collect then select", the blonde countered.

Emily chuckled. "I didn't have that in mind, Quinn.", she said patiently. "I simply meant that you need to _know_ yourself first. You can't do that when you keep a tunnel vision. You need to broaden your horizon." She opened her bag and took out a ring-bound set of papers. "You asked me to critique your paper, the one you plan to submit for publication."

"Yeah?", the blonde asked in an unusually uncertain and anxious tone.

"Very well-written, amazing research, sound arguments"

"But?"

Emily nodded. "But it lacks originality…ingenuity. It's good, but it simply parrots the things every other scholar had talked about. McDonaldization of society? Come on, Quinn. I don't know you that well yet, but I can say with confidence that you can do so much better than this cliché topic."

"I- I..yeah", the blonde sighed and nodded in agreement. "you're right."

"I'd still submit this for publication", Emily assured Quinn. "Like I said, the writing and research are both brilliant. But the next work you show me, it has to be Quinn Fabray written all over it. Open your mind, Quinn", she said as she stared into hazel eyes, "what's one of the characteristics of postmodernism?"

"Deconstructing the grand narrative", Quinn stared back. "…remove the power from one authority, or structure that imposes meaning on how we're supposed to interpret things or behave", she nodded in understanding then breathed deeply. "I need to take more risks. Go beyond the things I've read and formulate my own thoughts. And the only way I can do that is to explore outside my created set of boundaries."

Forget about her looks, Kurt realized. This woman challenged Quinn – pushed her – like Rachel never did, and he couldn't decide whether that was good or not for the blonde. It was disconcerting to see Quinn treat Emily with much reverence and authority, but he couldn't entirely blame the younger girl. Thinking about the past, Quinn had always depended on authority to get through life. From religion, to her parents, to Sue Sylvester, Quinn had clung on to their words like they held the absolute truth. It was rather paradoxical that her epiphany of breaking free from authority had to be pushed by someone that seemed to be the new person Quinn looked up to with esteem.

And Kurt would have been okay with it if not for the fact that there was a very palpable sexual tension between the two women. He wasn't in the position to comment. He didn't even know if Quinn would be open to talking to him about her relationship with Emily – whatever it is right now and whatever it might be. There was something very imposing about the woman that seemed benign at the moment—at face value, Kurt perceived that the woman was genuinely concerned about Quinn's well-being—, but somehow, he wasn't comfortable with the way the former HBIC bowed down immediately to her critique when he knew how much the blonde can get passionate about her work.

He had very little to contribute in the conversation and so he had all the time in the world to analyze the interaction until his attention was forced back to reality when Emily inquired about their high school life. This made Kurt extremely uncomfortable. Talking about high school is talking about Rachel Berry. The girl was practically the glue that bound everyone together and he wasn't sure if Quinn had been forthright about her recent break up with his best friend. He knew he had to tread carefully. "Well, high school was…high school. You had the jocks, the cheerleaders, the geeks, and the gleeks."

"Gleeks?"

"Glee club. Quinn and I were in Glee club."

Emily turned to face Quinn. "Glee club? You never told me you could sing. How about Santana?"

"Santana and Kurt are the singers. Not me.", Quinn clarified. "I just…you know, most of the time provided a warm body to meet the minimum required members."

"Ahem. Really? Who won us Sectionals?", Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow.

Emily tilted her head and smirked at Kurt. "I'm guessing, Quinn?"

Kurt bowed and extended his hand towards the blonde's direction. "It was a rather poignant duet with another member, Sam Evans."

It was Emily's turn to raise her eyebrow. "Sam Evans. Is that a Sam as in Samuel or Samantha?"

"Definitely not a Samantha", Quinn said in a rather rushed manner. "I mean, it was Sectionals. I don't think Ohio would have been ready for two girls singing a love song or whatever to each other."

"Ah", Emily nodded, clearly impressed at this new found information. "Maybe you can sing to me one of these days?"

Quinn blushed. "I..I don't know. I haven't really sung in front of anyone in years."

Kurt furrowed his brows in reaction to what Quinn said. "Not even to Rachel?", he blurted out.

"Great, a new name. We're making progress", Emily teased as she smiled coyly at Quinn.

The blonde's jaw stiffened and forced a smile. "She was the leader of the pack."

"She's also based in New York? That's remarkable.", Emily noted.

"We both go to NYADA", Kurt smiled proudly.

The woman raised her glass and smiled affably. "Wonderful"

Quinn quirked her eyebrows and took a huge amount of Sangria. "Really wonderful."

The rest of the night was like a pendulum swinging back and forth from comfortable topics to one that obviously stressed Quinn out. Emily was genuinely fascinated with American small town life. Quinn seemed to have stuck out like sore thumb there in the sense that from what she had gathered that evening, Lima wasn't the picturesque suburbia of Hollywood portrayal. It ranked high on crime rate with less than 10% that acquire college degrees and a median income 50% lower than the national average. The young girl had the etiquette and manners better than a lot of what the British woman had encountered among the upper crust of England and had the quiet grace and dignity that can only be described as exceptional. She realized it must have been pure torture for the blonde girl to have lived in such a community.

She understood Quinn better that night. They had confined themselves to texting most of the time and a couple of coffee sessions that revolved around scholarly discussions. It was the first time names from her past—and present, besides Santana—had been mentioned. Rachel—the one name that elicited subtle forms of tensed reactions from Quinn. She must have meant something to the blonde yet there was no indication of how deep it had been.

Emily realized that Quinn was an enigma and that made her even more attracted to the girl. She knew she was in trouble the moment she decided to sit next to the her that night at the mixer. She internally laughed at herself; of the dozens of women she had encountered, cunning and sophisticated, she never imagined she would be drawn towards an impressionable girl—nine years her junior— from a small town in Midwest, America.

But there she was, letting Quinn explore her body in a rather domineering way –the first time she had ever let any sexual partner top her – and enjoying it. It was surprising, to say the least, that Quinn became flirtatious after they dropped Kurt off. She thought she had ruined the night when she extended an invitation to Kurt to join them, out of politeness. The last minute decision turned out to be her golden ticket. For some reason, the blonde became adamant to not talk about her past when they eventually drove alone and shut her up with a kiss on her jaw and a whisper asking her to go back to her apartment. She was ridiculously infatuated with the blonde –physically and mentally—that she had broken her two golden rules; never sleep with someone younger than her, and never sleep with anyone who had less experience than her.

Quinn fumbled a lot and was too concerned with catching the signals from Emily if she's doing it right. It was endearing; the way she combined eagerness, curiosity and uncertainty. Emily cupped the blonde's face. "Quinn, breathe. You're doing fine." The younger girl bit her lip and blushed. "Okay..okay", she breathed out before kissing the other's neck as she tried to calm her nerves.

Emily was very different from Rachel, especially in bed. And she liked it just the way it is. She experimented; did things she and Rachel weren't comfortable doing for so many reasons. She had bruises and scratches and left reddish marks on the older woman's wrists. And that was just their first night together.

Quinn had managed to slip back in Santana's apartment early morning avoiding the inevitable inquisition and gave her a few hours of respite in order to clear her head. She expected guilt to eat her up but so far she was feeling the effects of an all-nighter. She had no answers to her own questions, specifically the ones that are concerned with Rachel finding out about Emily. They had just started to re-establish their friendship – something that she initiated—and had no idea how this would affect their efforts. She knew that Emily wasn't a replacement or a meantime girl. She made it very clear that she won't settle down but was also very transparent in allowing Quinn to park in her life indefinitely.

She still loved Rachel. She would always love Rachel.

But she needed to break free.

At least that's what Emily said.


	12. Chapter 12

_It's time to tell you honestly_

_So we can alter history_

_You are, first on my list, when everything around is one I know_

_You are, first on my list, when everything is shown up for what it is_

—_Yesterday Threw Everything At me_

"_Quinn, honey. It's 2 a.m". Rachel sat up and rubbed her eyes to get a clearer view of the blonde still immersed in her studies with light only coming from her computer screen. She got up and turned on the lamp beside the laptop. "That's bad for your eyes."_

_Quinn looked up and adjusted her eyeglasses. "I didn't want to keep you awake", she smiled sweetly. Rachel smiled back. Quinn wearing eyeglasses was always a huge turn on to her. It does something, maybe added character to that angelic face; or maybe it's just the pervert in her, imagining the blonde giving her lectures in a classroom and then – Rachel shook her head and chastised herself. Quinn had been working hard all night and all she can think of at that moment is sex. "I'll go make us some coffee", she croaked, and made her way to the kitchen leaving her bemused girlfriend chuckling to herself. Rachel's face can be very transparent so Quinn deciphered early on the difference between contemplating-about-life- Rachel and contemplating-about-sex-Rachel. A few seconds ago was definitely the latter, what with the brunette swallowing roughly and reflexively licking her lips. _

_Quinn caught her lower lip with her teeth and turned her attention to the noise coming from the kitchen. Sex with Rachel was great. Not that she had a lot to compare with. But she instinctively knew that nothing in the world would compare to the way the brunette touches her, or how her slender fingers seem to fit snuggly in her core, or – shit, she's suppose to be finishing her paper. Sighing, Quinn stood up and walked around, shaking her hands and stretching a bit to recover from her thoughts. Her eyes opened immediately at the sound of Rachel's footsteps heading back to their room with two steaming mugs of coffee at hand. "You should go back to sleep, Rach", Quinn murmured while taking the mugs from Rachel and placing them on the table. _

_The brunette shook her head and slightly sat on the table. "I'll sleep when you're ready to sleep. Ergo", she raised the mug and blew air around the lid before taking a sip. "But this is going to take forever", Quinn whined as she sat down on her chair. "When are you suppose to submit that?", the brunette frowned in worry. _

"_Three weeks from now."_

_The diva almost choked on coffee. "Three weeks from now?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_And you're killing yourself over something you have a lot of time to work on?", Rachel asked in a mixture of annoyance and astonishment. _

"_Don't act like you're not like this, too, Ms. Berry", Quinn retorted. "Besides, this isn't the only schoolwork I have. I don't want to end up submitting a half-baked work. Miss Marco has very high standards. She has six published works, a monograph and a chapter in a compiled book."_

"_Sounds to me that you just want to impress her." Rachel muttered in a voice laced with jealousy. _

"_Maybe I do", Quinn pouted while staring on her mug, oblivious of her girlfriend's sentiments. _

_Rachel rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess it's really hard to please __**old**__professors."_

"_Actually", Quinn looked up. "She's only 38 years old."_

_Oh. Great. _

"_And she recently adopted a baby girl from China.", the blonde beamed. "She's very cute."_

_The brunette narrowed her eyes at Quinn. "You seem to know a lot about her personal life."_

"_Well, she—" Quinn squinted her eyes in response. "What is it with you and being jealous at **way **older people in my life? First my acupuncturist, now my teacher. Ew, Rachel. Just ew."_

"_Okay, I admit, being jealous with your acupuncturist was…slightly immature.", Rachel said with resentment. _

_Quinn laughed softly and tugged Rachel's hand. "Come here", she whispered while patting her lap. _

_Rachel sighed heavily then slowly straddled the blonde, resting her arms on Quinn's shoulders. "I love you, you know?", Quinn said with conviction. "I should be offended that you imply I have a thing for people closer to Mr. Schuester's age. I'm not the one who had a crush on him", she smirked. _

"_I'm sorry", the brunette murmured then worried her lip, choosing to ignore the blonde's last statement. Quinn leaned forward and placed a gently kiss on Rachel's lips and whispered, "I only have a thing for Rachel Berry."_

"_Why?"_

_Quinn leant back and studied her girlfriend's face. "What do you mean 'why'?"_

"_Why me", the diva clarified while staring intensely into Quinn's eyes."You're beautiful, stunning, and intelligent and—"_

"—_And so are you. The point being?" Quinn raised her eyebrow. She knew what would come next. _

_Rachel looked away. "I'm not..beautiful. And you could have anyone you wanted."_

"_I did get what I wanted.", the blonde held on to the diva's hips and squeezed them. "What I want. That's you."_

"_Again. Why me?"_

_She stroked Rachel's cheek and rested her hand on the contour of the brunette's jaw. "I wish I have a definitive answer to that. I just…I love **you**. I've always been drawn towards you and if I knew why early on, I probably would have known how to stay away from you", she chuckled sadly, remembering how much she struggled with her feelings. "But I don't regret it. I love your whole being. I don't have a list of what qualities I like in you or don't. I want you. Not the Rachel who does this, or don't do this. Just **you**." Quinn finished with pleading eyes. It's hard for her to express what she feels, and harder to mollify Rachel when her insecurities show. She wished that the brunette would understand what she was saying. _

_It seemed to have worked. For a moment, Rachel's lips moved upwards to something that resembled a smile then nodded. "You're beautiful, Rach. I'm so proud that **you** chose me." Quinn was pleased with herself because that visibly perked up her girlfriend. She had long learned to pick up signals since the time they had a huge fight about the way Rachel looked. "I kind of brag about you and tell my classmates I've got the hottest girlfriend with killer legs and—"_

_Rachel laughed loudly and shook her head. "Okay, now you're overdoing it."_

_Quinn tilted her head and tried to catch Rachel's eyes. "I love you", she said again. _

_Rachel finally got the hint and smiled sheepishly. "I love you, too". _

"_Do you want to help me organize my notes?" _

She clean forgot that she was supposed to meet Rachel for coffee that afternoon, so Quinn showered and dressed up as fast as she could, grabbing the nearest clothes hanging in her closet. Her mind was in a state of total chaos; she was still high from last night's tryst with Emily then suddenly felt like throwing up when she read Rachel's text reminding her of their coffee date.

She waited for the guilt to kick in; and it kicked her straight to the gut. Resting the side of her head against the bus window, she thought of how much the brunette had been trying to salvage their relationship. That night the blonde called to have coffee with the diva, Rachel took it as an opening and had been trying ever since without being pushy.

Quinn almost tripped on the way down from the bus then shoved her way from the people coming in and ran towards the café where they were supposed to meet. Catching her breath for a few seconds, she caught a glimpse of Rachel patiently waiting for her inside. The blonde's lips quirked upwards at how adorable her ex-girlfriend was, dutifully transferring notes from her yellow pad to her pink covered notebook. Quinn looked around and found a flower shop a few stores away, hurriedly walked over and picked up a dozen stargazer lilies.

She entered the cafe quietly and stood behind the brunette –still focused on what she was working on—and slowly placed the flowers in front of her. "I missed you", she whispered. Rachel smiled widely and dropped her pen before turning around. "I missed you, too. And these flowers are beautiful. Thank you." Rachel gushed.

There are certain decisions men make that change the course of our history. Napoleon did that at Waterloo, or the Japanese attacking Pearl Harbor.

Or Quinn, taking off her jacket when she sat down.

Rachel's face fell when her eyes landed on the bruises found on Quinn's left shoulder and the crook of her neck. The blonde instinctively tried to cover them with her right hand but the damage was done. "Rach..", she mumbled.

"Is..this what Kurt wanted to tell me?", Rachel asked in a broken voice. She received a text message from him last night asking them to have dinner later. He didn't want to not be near her best friend when he talked about Emily. It would have been a wise decision had Rachel decided not to meet Quinn first –something Kurt wasn't aware of. And now, everything is out in the open. At the very least, Quinn felt exposed under Rachel's scrutinizing gaze. "He said you were with him last night."

"I…I was with Kurt last night. We..", Quinn covered her shoulder with palm and squeezed it. "We bumped into each other at NYU. I was..I was there because.." She breathed deeply then looked away. She couldn't –didn't want to—look at Rachel out of shame. "…I was on my way to meet up with a friend – acquaintance,", she corrected herself, "E-emily. Emily", she nodded. "…but we ended up having dinner together with..Kurt."

Rachel closed her eyes for a few moments, balled up her fists and breathed deeply. "And you ended up in her bed afterwards", Rachel stated evenly as if talking about the weather. Quinn blinked. Was her ex-girlfriend schizophrenic? This was a different Rachel she is dealing with.

Quinn's eyes snapped towards Rachel's direction. "Rachel, please.."

They were now talking in whispers as more people entered the establishment. Rachel tried to maintain eye contact and Quinn wished that she could decipher what was going through the brunette's mind.

"Was she good?"

Quinn tried to reach out for the diva's hand that she quickly snatched away and placed on her lap. "Was she good?", she repeated.

Quinn looked down and blinked several times. "Rachel…please don't do this."

"Was she good, Quinn?"

The blonde closed her eyes. There was no escaping this. She can walk out but that would never amount to anything—might as well get this done and over with. "Yes", she breathed out.

"Is she pretty?...prettier than me?"

Quinn gripped her thighs and pursed her lips in response.

"Please answer my—"

"Yes", she answered softly. "She's prettier than you, Rachel. Please stop, now. Please."

"So what are these flowers for, Quinn?"

"Nothing. I just saw it and I wanted to give it to you"

"Tell me more about her, Quinn."

The blonde wiped her eyes slowly and managed to squeak a "Why?"

Rachel finally looked down and wrung her hands together. "Because I want to know who's making you happy these days. That's what friends do"

Quinn's heart shattered into a million pieces with how small Rachel's voice had become. "Rachel..she's not..we're not together dating."

Wrong move.

"So you just…sleep with her? That's how easy it is now, Quinn?"

"No, god, no", the blonde mumbled with her hands covering her face. "Rachel, she doesn't mean anything to me. I don't know what came over me last night. It was a mistake. I swear."

By all intents and purposes, Quinn wasn't cheating on Rachel. Yet, the way she had been pleading and defending her actions, it might as well have been. "Please, it's a one-time thing. I promise you. It won't happen again."

"Quinn, we're not together anymore.", Rachel reminded her. "You're free to sleep with other people."

The blonde felt like she was once again hit by a truck. That statement went both ways. There was a horrible sinking feeling that she lost any moral ascendancy to discourage Rachel from seeing someone else. She expected Rachel to fall right back in the arms of Finn as soon as they had broken up. But the fact that the diva remained single up to now gave her some glimmer of hope. All of that is gone.

"No..", Quinn countered weakly. "We were..we were trying to—"

"—salvage our relationship", Rachel interrupted. "And this changes everything." Her voice finally cracked and rubbed her thighs nervously.

"Rachel", Quinn pleaded for the last time. "She's no one in my life", she lied. "I just met her in an event and she helps me with my academic requirements."

"Quinn, you _slept_ with her". The brunette looked at her intensely. "You can't dismiss her as no one in your life."

"She's no one compared to you."

"That's really sweet of you to say, Quinn. But that's beside the point. Those bruises say otherwise."

"No, it doesn't, Rachel. I screwed up. I know that. It's a one-time thing."

"Can you honestly say that won't happen again?"

Quinn grimaced. "I…I don't know, Rachel."

Rachel sighed. Of course that wasn't the answer she was hoping for. But she wanted honesty, and she got it. "How is she as a person?"

"She doesn't ask a lot of questions.", she glanced at Rachel and smirked slightly despite the situation.

Rachel smirked back.

_Quinn rolled off Emily then lied down on her back as she tried to recover from an orgasmic high. The older woman propped her elbow and rested her head while running her fingers over the length of Quinn's body then rested on her knee. "Battle scars?", she purred, tracing the faint inch-long blemish._

_The younger girl's jaw tensed then looked down. "Car accident"_

"_That's all there is to it?"_

"_Yeah"_

_Emily chuckled. "Alright", she whispered before straddling Quinn's torso. _

Quinn rubbed the back of her neck. "Rachel, why you are asking me all these questions?"

"Because I need to know who I'm up against with, Quinn."

"This isn't a singing competition"

"No, it isn't. It's much more important than that."

Quinn gazed at Rachel and saw fire in her eyes. She wasn't sure what to make of it. At the heart of it all is, Quinn doesn't know what she wanted. Rachel scooted closer and pressed her lips on Quinn's. The blonde pulled away and frowned. "What was that for?"

Rachel's eyes flashed with hurt. "It's open season, isn't it? That Emily –"

"What am I? Some sort of a game?", Quinn gasped. "You guys are the hunters and I'm the hunted?"

"You slept with _her, _Quinn. And now you're on a date with _me_. Not to mention _this_._", _she said while pointing to the bouquet of flowers. "If I didn't see those hickeys, would you have mentioned her to me? Or did you just expect Kurt to do the job?"

The blonde bit her lip and remained silent.

"So who's toying with whom, here?", Rachel asked with much venom in her voice and valiantly fought back the tears threatening to spill. "I'm not asking you to make a choice right here right now. But I need to know if despite the fact that she's far more superior to me, I still stand a chance."

"So you just kiss me without warning?"

"Have I ever warned you before hugging?"

Quinn laughed at this. "No…no you never ever did."

"So don't act all surprised."

"You're taking this better than I had expected."

"It's killing me inside, Quinn." Rachel's hand slowly reached for the other girl's. "It's taking everything in me not to cry right now."

Quinn allowed the brunette to hold her hand and murmured, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I told you, you're free to see anyone you want. I mean it."

"That goes the same for you, you know?"

Rachel looked up and quirked the corner of her lips. "It's kind of why you left me, isn't it? For me to be free. And I'm using that freedom to win you back."

"It won't be that easy, Rach. It's not because I have any intention to make your life grueling. It's just—"

"We've hurt each other so much"

Quinn nodded.

"Will you be willing to afford me the same privileges you give Emily?"

"What..what privileges?" Quinn didn't like where the conversation was heading.

"I can't compete fairly if I can't do the things you allow her to do to you."

"Rachel, I told you this isn't a competition."

"So you can sleep with her, but I can't even kiss you."

Quinn whispered lowly. "Rachel, when you kiss me, my whole world turns upside down. When you touch me, I feel like my head is about to explode. I won't be able to ever think straight if I let you do the things we used to."

Oh. Really? She didn't know that.

"And…and I don't want to cheapen the intimacy we had", Quinn blushed.

Oh. That's why they never fucked; never discussed using toys or anything else that remotely deviated from the orthodox way of having sex.

"I think. I think we need to take a step back and clear our heads.", Quinn added.

"Okay", Rachel agreed sadly. "How much space and time do you need?"

"I don't..I'm not asking for that. I just..can we continue what we have been doing? I like this. I like that we go out for coffee and talk about stupid and funny things, you know?"

No, she didn't know that. She had always thought Quinn would get bored at her if she talks about mundane things.

"…you'll still see Emily?"

"I can't promise you that I won't."

"It's a yes or no question, Quinn.."

Quinn responded with an exasperated tone. "Yes, I'll still see her."

Rachel nodded and stared at Quinn with determined eyes. This won't be easy. But Quinn wasn't fighting it out either. When she saw the love marks on Quinn's neck, something inside her ignited. She wanted to drag the blonde home and claim her. She felt the need to make sure everyone else stays away from her ex-girlfriend. Rachel was about to head for war and she needed the entire arsenal she can get.

"Berry", Santana sighed as she answered her phone. "What do you want? I'm busy."

"Santana, if it's a choice between a hot British woman and me, who would you choose."

"What the fuck question is that?"

When she was met with silence, Santana continued, "If it's a choice between that singer Cheryl Cole and you, I'd throw you off the cliff."

Rachel huffed in response.

Santana chuckled then took a bite from the apple she was holding and chewed loudly to further aggravate Rachel. She was enjoying this. "If you are, however, alluding to Emily Carr, I'd choose you."

"I—what?"

"You heard me."

"You..you'd choose me"

"That's what I said."

"Why?"

"Because I don't think I can handle someone like her. Bitch is aggressive. I've never seen Quinn so emaciated after a night of fucking. Well, I assume you've done that, too, with her."

"Uhm"

"No way. You two have never done a sex-a-thon?"

"No.."

"Good lord, Rachel. No wonder Quinn looked like she came right out of a concentration camp. Uh, no offense to your people."

"None taken"

"So, anyway. Is that the only reason why you called?"

"I need to win her back, Santana. I need your help."

"I can't do that. Quinn's technically my friend. You're not."

"Don't give me that crap, Santana. I'm your friend, too."

"Okay, you're right. But that's always a secret. I'm her best friend."

"And therefore you want what's best for her. Is Emily someone you can say is good for her?"

"Truth?"

"Nothing but."

"No, she's not. But neither were you."

"I have every intention to be from now on."

"She wasn't good for you, either, Rachel. You both almost ruined each other."

"It won't be the same this time."

"And why not?"

"Because I've never been so sure of my feelings for Quinn. I love her, Santana. I love her."

Santana stared at her food for a moment. "You told her you chose her out of guilt, Rachel.", she said quietly. "You told her if she didn't stupidly get into an accident, you would be happily married to Finn, and that you're only sticking it out with her because it's convenient."

It was the first time someone had recounted a part of what happened that awful night at her. It wasn't easy for Rachel to hear it from someone else. It didn't help that Santana's voice was filled with uncharacteristic sorrow and disappointment.

Rachel closed her eyes and wiped the tears that fell. "I was so mad, Santana. So mad at Quinn. I know that doesn't justify anything, but I had to fight back."

"Yeah, I know. Quinn's not exactly the epitome of an ideal girlfriend. She can be her father's daughter at times"

"So, will you help me?"

"I don't know exactly what you have in mind, Rachel. But I'm not going to get in between Emily and Quinn."

"No, I'm not, either. I know they're sleeping together. I'm not okay with it, but I can't stop Quinn."

Santana frowned. "So, what do you need from me?"

"I realized something very crucial was missing. And I need to do that."

"What is it?"

"I need to know Quinn Fabray."

**A/N: I physically felt pain over Rachel asking those questions at Quinn. That wasn't easy. But Rachel is Rachel and she lives through the Art of War, perhaps, without even knowing it. **

**A/N 2: Thank you once again for the kind reviews and comments. Quinn isn't perfect as we all know and accepted. The hardest part about writing future fics is that they're all based on our understanding of what they are now so we can, in a way, predict how they will be in the future. Quinn, I think is the most complex character in the show and despite the writing screw ups, I'm glad that they're giving us fanfic writers an easier way to portray a multi-dimensional character because of how she was molded in the past. So please, try not to be mad at my Quinn, lol. Trying to figure out how Rachel would react didn't come easy, too. **

**A/N 3: Keep the reviews/comments coming. I live for them the same way Rachel lives for applause. **


	13. Chapter 13

_Oh what a tangled we weave_

_When first we practise to deceive!_

_Sir Walter Scott_

_Rachel scrolled and refreshed the page several times over the last few days, hoping what she read was a mistake. _

_**Finn Hudson is in a relationship with —**_

_She couldn't give a rat's ass who the other person was; just the fact that Finn had updated his Facebook status from Single to In a Relationship with, made her stomach turn. What was she expecting? Of course, in almost a year, Finn would have moved on. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. She stared at the computer screen and nothing changed except the number of "likes" and "comments" congratulating her ex-fiancé. Huffing, she grumpily checked on her Facebook page. _

_**Status: Single**_

"_Quinn Fabray!"_

_The blonde jolted at the urgency on Rachel's voice and in the process cutting her finger instead of the zucchini she was daintily preparing. "Mother of god", she mumbled as she pressed her bloody finger while letting water from the faucet run through it. "What is it?"_

"_In here. Now."_

_Quinn looked up and muttered something inaudible. "What did I do, this time?"_

_Rachel stomped. "Just. Get in here."_

"_Give me a minute", the blonde sighed while wrapping her finger with Band-aid. Drying her hands with a towel, she moseyed over to their bedroom and leant against their Japanese divider. "What's up?"_

"_My status is still single. Any idea why?"_

_Quinn frowned. "Because the only time you change status is when you become married. Otherwise the government does not recognize cohabitation as a legal status."The blonde winced at the death glare sent her way. "I'm guessing my answer is wrong?"_

"_I'm talking about Facebook, oh wise one."_

"_Ah." Quinn puffed her cheeks and nodded slowly. _

_Rachel fully turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm waiting for an answer"_

"_Because I haven't accepted your request to change our relationship status?"_

"_Correct. And why haven't you?"_

_Quinn quirked her eyebrows and bit her inner cheek to stop herself from laughing. "Rachel, I haven't updated my account in like… bajillion years."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because I don't like putting myself out there on the internet. It has a way of haunting people and biting back their behinds."_

"_It's Facebook. Everyone announces their relationship status on Facebook. Come on, don't be so anti-mainstream on this.", Rachel pleaded. _

_The blonde laughed affectionately. "I'm not being anti-mainstream, Rachel. I'm just being careful."_

"_Quinnnn. Pleaase. Just one click of the mouse to accept it."_

_Chuckling, Quinn stepped forward and pulled a chair next to Rachel. "Okay, okay. If it's that important to you. Log out and let me in."_

_Rachel clapped and bounced from her chair. "Yay!" She quickly logged off from her account and looked at Quinn expectantly to take over the computer. "All yours."_

_The blonde readied her hands on the keyboard when Rachel gasped. "What happened to your finger?"_

"_Well, someone ruined my concentration when I was slicing our supposed dinner.", Quinn explained and slightly feigning annoyance. "We'll have zucchini soup with blood le Fabray for tonight."_

_Rachel's lower lip jutted out and gave looked at her with Bambi eyes. "I'm sorry."_

"_Oh, for.." Quinn leaned forward and kissed Rachel. Rachel knew that expression was her girlfriend's weakness and was shameless at using it whenever she knew she was in trouble. "You don't fight fair, do you?" _

"_Never."_

_The former HBIC chuckled then kissed Rachel's cheek before wrapping an arm on her shoulders. "Okay, let's do this."_

_Rachel placed her hand on top of Quinn's. "Let me, since I'm the cause of your injury."_

"_I'm not giving you my Facebook password.", Quinn protested with a slight panic on her voice. _

_Rachel hung her head and spoke lowly. "Really? I have your ATM PIN. I'd like to think that required more trust than this."_

_Quinn crinkled her nose and thought of a counterargument but found none. "Fine."_

_The brunette grinned widely then started typing. "Okay, so…Quinn Fabray at gmail dot com, right? Great. Now, password please?"_

_Quinn sighed. "Rachel Berry is mine forever and ever"_

_Rachel pursed her lips in an attempt to keep a straight face. "Is that one word with no caps?", she asked in her best professional voice. _

"_Yes." Quinn rolled her eyes and mumbled. "…You may laugh."_

_At prompt, Rachel laughed loudly. Quinn groaned then tried to stand up only to be tugged down by the diva. "No, honey, that's actually really adorable", Rachel cooed then kissed Quinn's already red ear. That always worked when she wanted to calm the blonde down. "I love your password", she whispered. _

"_Whatever", Quinn mumbled and still clearly embarrassed. _

_The brunette giggled then frowned. "You have ten friend requests, you want me to accept?"_

_Quinn sat up and read the names. "Yeah, sure. Accept them."_

"_Who are these people?" Rachel Berry had a hawk eye, which was a fact. She immediately zeroed in on the request of a certain Kenji Inoue, and the mouse pointer was clearly directed at it. _

"_They're all from Baruch", Quinn replied in a disinterested tone. _

_The diva clicked on the boy's profile. "He's handsome"_

"_I guess. If men turn you on"_

"_True", Rachel said in a pleased voice as she went back to Quinn's page, skillfully evading any opportunity for the blonde to notice her timeline that included the one of Finn's status update and quickly led them to the relationship status request. She lingered for a while before turning her head towards Quinn's direction. _

_Quinn smiled for assurance and rubbed the brunette's shoulder. "It's okay, Rach"_

_As soon as her relationship status request was accepted, her girlfriend stood up and kissed the top of her head then went back to cooking their dinner. It was within a few seconds that Rachel realized what could have been the possible reason for Quinn's hesitation to do this seemingly mundane activity. Because she has yet to log out from Quinn's account, she saw message after message bombarding Quinn from her former church members and her relatives. _

_Message 1: The immorality of this kind of relationship._

_Message 2: Some misquoted text from the Bible. _

_Message 3: How much of a disappointment Quinn had become. _

_Message 4 (And Rachel's personal favorite): Because being pregnant out of wedlock wasn't enough. _

"_Quinn! Can you come back here?"_

_Quinn growled in response. "Can I not cook in peace?", she whined as she stormed back in their room. "What? Do you want to change it now to Engaged?"_

"_No, I—" Rachel's eyes widened. "Do you want to?"_

"_What?"_

"_I asked if you wanted to…be engaged with me"_

_Quinn stared at her girlfriend blankly. "I..well, yeah, of course. I mean, in the future, I was hoping we'd end up married." She stood defensively when met with silence. "I mean, what's the point of this all if we won't be thinking of reaching that, right?"_

"_Of course", Rachel nodded and stared back at Quinn. _

_The taller girl cleared her throat. "So, why did you call me back?"_

"_Oh", Rachel shook her head. "Uhm, some people messaged you and they're not very nice."_

_Quinn waved it off. "Ignore them. It's a waste of time to read those things."_

"_Is that why you didn't want to change it?"_

"_No.." Quinn walked towards Rachel and kissed the top of her head again reassuringly. "Honestly, Rachel, the only reason is. I don't like putting my personal stuff online as much as possible. It's got nothing to do with my family or not wanting people to know about us. The people who matter to me know. But you feel it's important so I'm okay with it."_

"_But now, they're sending you all this nasty stuff"_

_The blonde scoffed. "Karmic retribution."_

"_Hmm?"_

"_Well, I sent you nasty stuff on your Myspace."_

"_That's different"_

"_No, it's not. A rude act is a rude act, regardless of circumstance. Just delete the messages and block them if you want, okay?"_

_Rachel looked up and gazed childishly at Quinn. "You're letting me block them?"_

"_Those that sent out foul messages. Not because you think one is too pretty.", Quinn clarified and winked. _

_The brunette sighed dramatically and pouted. "Okay. Just the uncouth people.", she agreed then went on quickly to blocking those people and reported abuse just for good measure while allowing Quinn to finally reach kitchen Zen for the night. She gave herself one final look at Finn's page and fought tears brimming in her eyes and bravely clicked the "like" button before exiting and moved on to browsing through other things._

_Quinn heard her phone buzz and checked on it while the pot was simmering. _

_Santana Lopez: LOL great timing. _

_Quinn frowned in confusion and typed in a reply. "What timing?"_

_Santana Lopez: The Facebook relationship status update. Right after Finn. _

_Quinn closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead before responding. "I don't get it."_

_Santana Lopez: Seriously? Finn changed his status to "in a relationship", then after a few minutes, you changed yours. Finally. _

_Quinn smiled sadly and shook her head. Of course. It had something to do with Finn Hudson. She replied one last time with a "just pure coincidence. My status change was long overdue", before grabbing their remaining box of orange juice and poured the contents in the sink. She stepped out and took her purse. "Rach? We ran out of OJ." She shook the box for evidence. "I'm just gonna grab a couple at Duane Reade's, okay? Can you watch over the kitchen? Should be done in five minutes."_

_Rachel nodded and smiled sweetly. "Don't be out too long"_

_It must have been very weird for someone to be crying while paying for orange juice, but she could not care less. So she loved Tropicana very much she becomes emotional, who gives a shit? She walked around the block, hoping by the time she had returned to their building, the tears are all gone. _

_She had briefly wondered why Rachel found a renewed interest in social networking but seemed so earnest about it, she had to give in. It wasn't like the brunette was eager to tell the world of their relationship in the beginning. She should have known. She thought it was over. The nights when Rachel would dream and mumble his name frequently had not happened in two months. She kept tab. It was hard not to. Quinn felt she could breathe clearly for the first time but was apparently a temporary reprieve. She had two choices, walk away as soon as possible or fight for the girl she loved. The sensible one is to quit and cut her losses while ahead. But she never acted logically where Rachel is concerned. She needed to up the ante but she just had no idea how. She used to compete **with** Rachel for Finn's affection. The reversal of roles made it a rather unusual set-up and left her without guide. Her situation these days make things even more difficult because, really, Finn isn't even trying to win back Rachel, so how can she compete with a memory?_

Quinn hunched forward and studied the photos neatly lined up on Emily's fireplace. "Who's the kid?"

'What kid?", Emily asked while clasping her bra.

"The kid you're carrying in this photo". Quinn gingerly traced her finger on the frame.

"Oh. Eoin " Emily slipped her dress on then stepped outside her room. "He's my child."

Quinn dropped the photo in shock and resulted to a domino effect. "Shit, shit. I'm sorry", she said as she tried to rearrange the frames.

The British woman chuckled genially. "God, Quinn. Don't tell me you're one of those people who run away from single mothers?"

"No, of course not. What do you take me for?.", Quinn retorted.

"I don't take you for anything. I don't make judgments. Unless you have a criminal record that involves heinous ones."

"Well, I don't."

"Then you're still welcome in my home."

"So." Quinn uttered. "You have a child. Where is he?"

"He's in Dublin with his father."

"Were you ever married?"

"Zip me up?" Emily turned her back to face Quinn to which the blonde obeyed. "No, we were never married. Eoin is fourteen now. That little boy and that teenager..", she pointed a photo on a wall. "..is the same rascal."

Quinn's breathe hitched. "So..so you were very young when you had him."

The older woman turned around and beamed. "Yes, I think keeping him was the best decision I had in my life."

"Your parents were alright with it?"

"Oh, god, no, definitely not. What could be worse than your teenage girl getting pregnant with an Irish boy as the father?", she laughed. "Nothing, I tell you, nothing."

"How did you meet him in the first place?"

"We were at the same boarding school. Kieran is the Irish Catholic with cash, to every snotty English man's dismay and worst nightmare."

"…maybe that's why I got attracted to him to begin with", she said as an afterthought while putting on her earrings. "Never really gotten to figuring that out. So anyway, with his family being Catholic, abortion was certainly out of the question. They took me in and paid for all expenses. We've developed a non-traditional family set up. They're Catholic, but not _too _Catholic, if you know what I mean."

Quinn shrugged and played with the other pieces of jewelry lined up in a box.

"They treat me like their own daughter. I guess I'm just that likeable, hmm?"

The blonde looked up at her and smirked. "I guess."

"So yes, Eoin lives with his father most of the time. He's schooled in Ireland. But, I get to have him on summers when I'm not away."

"And he's okay with that?"

"Kieran or Eoin?"

"Both?"

"Kieran and I, I guess because we've had a long history already, we have a very open and comfortable relationship. He knows I will drop everything if and when my son needs me. But, Eoin treats me more like his much older sister, which is fine by me."

"Do they know about your sexuality?"

"Honey, everyone knows about my sexuality. It's something I can't really hide. Like I said, Catholic but not too Catholic. Eoin's only starting to understand what it means. He's nonplussed about it as of the moment. But he has his father to explain."

The blonde stared at Emily for a moment with blatant curiosity. "You're awfully candid about your life."

"I have nothing to hide, Quinn. I've made mistakes in the past and I'll continue making them. But. With every blunder, I'm sure I've done something right as well. That's life. I don't volunteer information to strangers. But if _you_ ask me, I'll answer."

"Okay", Quinn noted. "So, we're playing the twenty questions game."

The British woman laughed and shook her head in amusement. "If that's what makes you comfortable. I can engage in that."

"Yeah, I guess you can ask me questions."

The older woman regarded Quinn for a second then nodded. "Alright, who's Rachel Berry?"

Quinn's eyes widened. "Wow, okay. You don't give warnings do you?"

Emily raised her eyebrows in response. "I don't want to waste my twenty questions by beating around the bush. I'm not a lawyer."

"How did you know about her?"

"Facebook"

Quinn stood up and flailed. "What is it with people and Facebook?"

"Relax, oh my god", Emily laughed loudly. "You don't tell me anything about yourself. Can't blame a girl for being curious, can you?"

"No, I guess not.", the blonde frowned.

"Look, Quinn", Emily spoke in a calm and serious manner. "The reason I'm asking is, it _does _say in your profile that you're engaged to her. I may be a woman of few social rules, but I draw the line to being the third party. That's not my cup of tea."

"No..we're not..we're no longer. I just..I don't—"

"You don't need to explain in detail. You look like you're about to faint. Just tell me if you're cheating or not."

Quinn gazed into Emily's eyes. "Technically, I'm not."

The older woman chuckled and shook her head. "There's a non-technical side to it? This is why I avoid younger girls. You guys make it so complicated with your angst and constant need to label everything."

"We've broken up, yes. So technically I'm not cheating."

"But?"

"But, she's been trying to, you know."

"Ah.", Emily nodded. "And I'm getting in the way?"

"No", Quinn exclaimed. "She knows about you."

Emily looked at her skeptically. "And she's okay with it?"

"I—I don't think so. No. But she's not asking me to stop seeing you."

"Are you daft?"

"Excuse me?", Quinn glared.

"She's trying to win you back. Of course she's not going to demand things from you."

"I'm not asking you for relationship advice.", Quinn snapped then let out a shaky breath. "I want this", she pointed to the ground. "I want whatever it is we have been doing. I don't..you don't expect anything from me and I don't have to deal with how you feel for me."

"Quinn, I'm running against my better judgment by letting you have your way ,because I think you're adorable and you're fun to be with. But I'm telling you, the moment this gets out of hand; I won't look back regardless of what you want."

"Yeah, I know what I'm getting myself into.", the blonde mumbled. "Don't worry about it."

"…alright", Emily nodded then took her purse. "Ready?"

They drove quietly to Therapy at Hell's Kitchen, one of Manhattan's most popular gay bar that used to be a warehouse and whorehouse. "Quinn, stop that. You're distracting me.", Emily chastised after a few minutes of tolerating the blonde's knees bouncing incessantly. "Relax, it's just auction night."

"I'm the one being auctioned. How am I supposed to relax?", Quinn snarled.

"_You_ agreed to it."

"I hate Santana."

"Because she's auctioning you off for a good cause?"

"I could've just given money to the Trevor Project.", the blonde huffed.

"Where's the fun in that? You're too uptight, Quinn. Loosen up. You're ten times sexier when you're not sober. In fact, you should be permanently tipsy."

Quinn grunted in response. She had no idea why she allowed her best friend to put her in situations like this. She's proud that Santana had been navigating her way in New York and finding her niche in the LGBT community. But putting up an event that auctions people –and proceeds go to the Trevor Project—wasn't something the blonde approved. Nonetheless, for some reason, she apparently said yes to her Latina friend and can't back off.

"It's just dinner with whoever wins you, Quinn", the British smiled and placed her hand on the blonde's thigh for reassurance. "You're not obligated to do anything after. It's charity, not prostitution."

"I know", Quinn finally agreed. "I just don't like the idea itself."

Emily nodded. "Just keep an open mind. Good things happen when you least expect it."

"You'll buy me, right?", Quinn looked at Emily with pleading eyes.

"If I can afford you", the older woman laughed. "I've got a feeling you'll pick up a good price."

Quinn cringed at that. "Come on, please? That's why I asked you to be there. You're loaded with money. I'm sure you can match any offers later."

"I have a 400 dollar budget. I'm not going beyond that. And dinner with you isn't exactly incentive because I've been getting that for a way lower cost. With benefits on the side."

"Aren't you the most tactful woman"

"I'm wealthy, not blue-blooded.", the older woman smirked. "My mouth is as dirty as a Geordie coal miner."

Meanwhile, Santana ducked and squeezed herself in between a horde of humanity inside the bar towards one particular spot. She grinned and opened her arms. "Rachel! Glad you could—"

"I hate you, Santana.", Rachel stomped and waved the flyer in front of the Latina's face. "How could you..You're disgusting! You're auctioning Quinn?"

"Uhhh…okay. Chill.", she implored the seething brunette with her hands defensively raised on her chest. "That's precisely the reason why I highly encouraged you to be here. You plan to claim your woman, and tonight's your night. Literally."

"How can she even agree to this?", Rachel whined.

"She didn't. I kind of tricked her into thinking she did." Santana found herself dodging a tiny brunette's hand about to wallop her head. "Oh my god, Rachel! Stop that! I'm on your side, remember?"

Rachel crossed her arms and panted. "Explain."

"What's to explain? When it's Quinn's turn up there on the stage, just go for it. Bid for her and make sure you fight for her to the very last cent you have on your wallet."

"But I didn't bring much! I don't even have my credit card with me.", Rachel panicked. "You said charity event and that you already paid for my ticket!"

"It is!", she rolled her eyes. "Look, here", Santana opened her purse. "Pay me back after." The Latina slid a couple of hundred dollar bills in the diva's hand. "Listen, I agreed to this…unholy alliance with you. You need to somehow trust me."

The shorter brunette nodded and stared at the bills in her hand.

"Just do whatever it takes to win her.", Santana nodded encouragingly. "Oh and, uhm, she's bringing Emily with her."

The diva rolled her eyes. "Of course. It's Emily this, Emily that. I should have expected her Dumbledore to be with her."

"Right, well. I just thought I'd give you a fair warning. Quinn doesn't know you'll be here, so I'm sure to be in trouble later. So the least you can do for me is to not glare at her British bitch if ever you're introduced to each other."

"I know", Rachel sighed. "Best foot forward."

"And you're good at that". Santana winked and patted Rachel's cheek before ushering her to the front row. "Stay here, I'll join you in awhile."

On cue, Quinn stepped inside the club with Emily one step behind as soon as Santana left Rachel alone in her table. The blonde looked at her ticket for the table number then craned her neck up front. "That way", she motioned to her companion. It took her a few steps away from their table to recognize the back of her ex-girlfriend. "R-Rachel?"

The brunette smiled then turned around to face Quinn. "Hey." She immediately eyed the statuesque brunette woman behind Quinn who threw her a cordial smile.

"What..what are you doing here?" There was alarm in Quinn's voice and expression. A part of her was pleased to see Rachel but was quickly unnerved when she was reminded of who she was with and why.

The diva stood up and offered the two other ladies seats. "To support Santana. She said this was her first big event?"

"She invited you?"

"Why's that a surprise?", Rachel chuckled.

"No..I—Not really a surprise. I—" Quinn stepped forward and gave Rachel a hug. "I'm glad you're here to support her." She released Rachel then wrung her hands together. "Uhm, Rachel, this is Emily Carr. Emily, Rachel Berry."

Emily, courteous as always, was the first to extend her hand. Quinn released a breath of relief that she didn't realize she was holding when Rachel politely took it and smiled. "Pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise". Emily quirked her eyebrows at Quinn and flashed a wider smile. "This is certainly going to be an interesting night, ladies. I'm going to get us drinks. Do you have any preference, Rachel?"

"I'm feeling a little adventurous. I'll have what you have, Emily.", Rachel grinned in response.

Quinn looked awfully a lot like Finn that moment. You know, the constipated baby expression. Yup. Definitely channeling Finn Hudson. "Quinn?", both brunettes simultaneously asked.

"I'll have a Coke and—"

"Johnny", Emily quipped. "Perfect. I'll double the shots to start the ball rolling."

"Okay", Quinn mumbled while staring blankly at the crowd.

Emily took huge strides towards the open bar but stopped and held on to Santana's waist before whispering, "You are a wicked girl, Miss Lopez. Putting us all in one table. You know Quinn's going to spontaneously combust, yeah?"

The Latina felt Goosebumps all over her body and swallowed thickly. God, this woman is sex on legs. "I happen to just want two of my closest friends to support me", she drawled while slowly removing Emily's hands off her.

"Try not to hurt Quinn in the process."

"Why", Santana had turned around and now faced Emily. "What's it to you? What's your angle?"

Emily simply smirked then walked away from the now snarling Latina. She marched towards Rachel and dragged her away from Quinn who was struggling to start a conversation. "Santana, what are you doing?", the diva huffed in annoyance.

"Listen, Frodo. Shit just got real at Middle-Earth."

"Hey, I thought we're over the name calling.", Rachel frowned. "And what are you talking about?"

"Ugh, you seriously need to read what Quinn reads."

Rachel's opened her mouth and nodded knowingly. "Oooh, okay. Noted. Will read the stuff Quinn reads so we have a lot of things to discuss."

"Yes, but, no, that's not the point. Like, seriously, do whatever it takes to win tonight or I'll ends you."

The diva's eyes widened and took a step back. It's been a long time since Santana resorted to Lima Heights Adjacent-speak so this must be urgent. "Okay, got it."

"Good. Now, go back to your Sam."

Rachel furrowed her brows and mouthed "Sam?" while she was being pushed by Santana. By the time she got back to their table, Emily was already sitting next to Quinn but had enough space for another person, the diva noted. How in the world is she going to compete with someone that even had the decency not to invade Quinn's personal space on a night like this? She knows she would have. Sighing, she tucked her hair between her ears then tottered towards the un-couple.

Quinn looked up from her drink as soon as she felt Rachel coming back. "Everything alright? What did Santana want?"

"Oh, nothing", the diva waved off. "Just for me to drive her home in case she gets wasted tonight."

"That's weird, I'm the one who lives with her."

"Well, she must have assumed you'd be off elsewhere tonight after this. It's not a big deal, Quinn", Rachel smiled then placed her hand on top of the blonde's. The blonde glanced subtly at their hands but made no move to remove hers. She was too frozen to react and too confused to even notice a slight change in Rachel's posture and demeanor.

Emily quickly took her glass to cover her smirk. Rachel was certainly marking her territory. She decided right at that moment, she liked the girl. Too bad they can't be friends. Not right now, anyway. Tonight, it's all about alpha females battling it out. Nothing personal. She's got a feeling who will win, and oddly enough, she felt alright about it.

**A/N: This will be a two-part chapter, with the auctioning and everything else on the latter part. The last chapter was certainly heavy –maybe too heavy for my liking—and I didn't expect that. I somehow want to recover, lol. **

**A/N 2: I genuinely appreciate the time, effort in reading and commenting, and your overall investment on the fic so far. It's what keeps me inspired, really. **


	14. Chapter 14

_As I study the lines on the ceiling_

_I find the fact you're unkind quite appealing_

_-Bittersweet Bundle of Misery_

Emily excused herself when the sexual tension between the two younger girls became very palpable. Rachel was all over Quinn in the most subtle and seductive way, that the British woman wanted to stand up and give the diva a salute. She walked the talk. She won't be third party to anything. She knew that this won't change the entire game overnight. Quinn would still be following her like a lovesick puppy because it's the nature of the beast—a very blonde beast— and it would be in the hands of Rachel to decide when she will put on that leash and stop Quinn from straying. Emily saw several acquaintances (she _does_ go around, she realized that night) and used that as a pretext to let these two clueless young girls a moment to take one small step.

Santana asked her tonight what her angle was. She's taking it as, if she had a hidden agenda. She's certainly not one for altruistic acts, so the older woman used this opportunity to ask herself as well why she had been very giving to Quinn without asking anything in return. It wasn't even about sex. She's had better partners; that's for sure. It took a huge amount of coaxing just to get Quinn comfortable with the idea of a strap-on, and even then, they haven't actually used it. The blonde did seem to have a thing for control that hazel eyes brightened at the sight of the British woman tied up to her bed. She wondered if there was a way for her to slip that information to Rachel.

"So, you'll be auctioned off later, huh?", Rachel whispered as she was tracing patterns over the length of Quinn's arm. "Can I try and bid for you?"

"I..I.., uhm", Quinn swallowed thickly. "Y-yeah, I guess. I mean…", she paused and breathed in then exhaled sharply, "You're free to do so. But…but you don't have to because we can always have dinner."

"Yeah, but this is for a good cause."

"Yes", Quinn nodded emphatically. "A good cause." She looked up to study Rachel's face and was reminded of why she was so outrageously attracted to the girl in the first place. The brunette had very little make-up, letting her blemish-free skin shine its natural glow. She wore her hair down and allowed its natural waves to flow, just the way Quinn had always liked it. Rachel gazed back at her from hooded eyes and the blonde's breath hitched. God, those Bambi eyes. "You look so beautiful", Quinn husked and gave her a lopsided smile.

The brunette gave her a small smile. "She's very pretty. Emily."

Quinn's face fell then pulled away from the diva. "Yeah", she murmured with the mouth of her glass right in front of her lips. "She is."

"You were right. She's so much prettier than me."

_Rachel slammed the door as soon as she stepped in their apartment and threw her coat and bag on the floor. Quinn stumbled over from their bed to meet the brunette half way for a comforting embrace. "Shh.." Quinn ran her hands on the diva's back as she sobbed. The taller girl led her distraught girlfriend to their bed. "Baby", she whispered soothingly while peppering Rachel's face with light kisses. _

"_They said…they said my face was too…ethnic, Quinn. They chose the other girl because she was more.."_

"_Generic looking?", Quinn finished in between Rachel's sobs. "They're stupid. They don't deserve your talents, then."_

_Rachel had gotten back from an off-Broadway audition. She claimed she had no expectations since she's still studying at NYADA and if she didn't get the part, she would still be fine. Quinn knew that was a lie and prepped up herself to be the most supportive girlfriend –win or lose. She didn't expect however that the panel would zero in on Rachel's face. This was theatre for crying out loud, not America's Next Top Model. And besides, her girlfriend was beautiful. Anyone who fails to see that was a loser in the blonde's book. _

_Quinn cupped Rachel's face and forced the smaller girl to look at her. "Rach, please don't let that eat you up. It's just one opinion. A misguided one if you ask me. You're the most beautiful—"_

_Rachel scoffed then pulled away from Quinn. "You don't have to lie to me, Quinn."_

_The blonde stayed still, shocked at how Rachel brushed her off. "I'm not lying, Rachel", she pleaded. "You're the most beautiful woman for me."_

"_You know? I've always wondered how you skipped from RuPaul to **that**", the brunette said with derision._

_Quinn felt like air was knocked out of her. "I've long apologized for that". _

"_Doesn't mean it wasn't true, Quinn. I don't look pretty. I'll never—"_

"_Your face isn't a template for some teen drama protagonist, yes. But that doesn't mean you're not beautiful, Rachel. You want to know what my eyes see?"_

_Rachel groaned and shook her head. "Quinn, stop that."_

"_No", the blonde crawled towards Rachel and settled in between the brunette's thighs and kissed the her eyebrows. "You've got the most hypnotic eyes. I could stare at them forever and be content with that." She then kissed the diva's cheekbones. "Well-defined, adds character to your face." Quinn went on to kissing Rachel's lips. "And these lips. I can go on and on worshipping them." She felt herself being pushed when she was about to kiss the smaller girl's nose. "Rachel…"_

"_Quinn, just. Stop. Okay? I need you to be supportive but don't lie to me. You don't even know what the other girl looks like."_

"_And I don't need to. I don't need to compare you to someone else for me to make a conclusion that you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen. I don't care who's right in front of me. You're the only one that makes my heart skip a beat."_

_Rachel glared at Quinn. Well, that wasn't what the blonde expected. And it made her want to drown kittens out of frustration. "Rachel, please tell me you believe me."_

"_I can't", she murmured and looked down. "I don't."_

"_Why?"_

"_Look at you, Quinn. Your face. That's beautiful."_

"_I'm not the standard of beauty. There isn't any, Rachel. And I'd like to remind you that you're not the one who went under the knife. That's me."_

"_I've seen those pictures, Quinn. Your nose was still ten times better than what I have"_

"_We're not back to that, Rach", Quinn shook her head. "Your nose is part of who you are. I thought we agreed to never compromise and give in to social pressures, again? We made a pact, remember?"_

"_Quinn, I won't ever get a job if I don't compromise."_

"_That's just one audition, baby..", she pleaded again as she tentatively took Rachel's hand. "You told me everyone who made it big had received more rejection than acceptance in auditions. You're just like them." She held Rachel tightly. "And when you're huge and winning awards, those people will just shake their heads dumbly—"_

"_Quinn. Stop. Lying. To me." Rachel broke free from Quinn's arms and got off from their bed, storming out of their apartment. _

"I'm tired, Rach", Quinn whispered but with force. "I'm tired of having to lie to you just so you won't accuse me of lying."

The brunette was taken aback. "W-what do you mean, Quinn?"

"I've spent almost three years telling you how beautiful you are to me. But every single time, you shot me down and accused me of lying. It hurt every time. It hurt because you can't bring yourself to accept that you aren't ugly. It hurt to know I'm one of the reasons why. And it hurt to be dismissed the way you had been dismissing me when I have been telling you the truth all along. You're beautiful. The most beautiful girl I've ever laid my eyes on."

Rachel looked away and blinked several times. When it was clear that she had no retort, the blonde spoke again. "You never stopped accusing me of lying until I give in and say someone else is prettier than you. I never understood that. You have no idea. _No idea. _How that rips me apart. To say those words, to look at you and lie through my teeth."

"Quinn.."

"No, you listen to me, Rachel.", the blonde said with clenched jaws and gritted teeth.

The brunette pursed her lips and nodded. "Okay..okay.."

"If you want to continue with this masochistic habit of yours to compare yourself with other women, that's your deal. But don't involve me anymore. I'm done putting up with it. I'm done tearing up my own heart just to feed this freakish need of yours to put yourself down. I. Love. You.", she said, emphasizing every word with her finger jabbing the table. "I love looking at you. I love your face and your body. You turn me on without having to do anything. No one's ever compared to you, and no one will. Other people might have nicer features than yours, but it never meant they will be more beautiful in my eyes. But I don't know how to convince you anymore. I'm tired. I'm just. Tired." Quinn stood up and headed to the front door. Any minute more in that conversation and she would have exploded. Leaning against the wall, she rummaged in her coat pocket for her pack of cigarettes and lit one stick before closing her eyes.

"I didn't know you were back to smoking", a small voice from her right appeared.

"Rachel, not now.", Quinn groaned and rubbed her forehead.

"No..I wasn't about to chastise you" Rachel took one step forward, gauging Quinn's reaction to her closing in. "I just..I had no idea, that's all."

"Well, now you do."

Rachel stood next to Quinn and rested her back against the wall. After a few moments of silence, the brunette finally spoke up. "Quinn, I'm sorry…"

"It's fine, Rachel."

"No..no, it's not. You're right..I've been..I've been doing that all this time. I don't really know why. I guess.."

"You don't need to explain anything", Quinn sighed.

"Yes, I do. I listened to you earlier..so it's your turn to listen to me."

"Fine", the blonde huffed then exhaled smoke that formed into circles.

That momentarily distracted the brunette. "That's..that's sort of neat. How do you do that?", she asked with an amused tone and wide eyes that lingered on the series of circular patterns floating on air.

Quinn chuckled. "Magic."

Rachel quirked her eyebrows and smiled widely at the blonde, "Okay, I'll take your word for it."

An awkward silence enveloped them afterwards. "But not when I tell you..", Quinn couldn't continue. She didn't want to anymore.

"I've never understood why me, of all people, Quinn. I look at you and see this striking woman I've always wanted to be. The truth is, I compare myself to other girls because I can't bring myself to comparing with you."

"You're my..you were my partner, Rachel. We weren't supposed to compete with each other."

"We once were rivals, too, Quinn."

"And you won, didn't you?", the blonde smirked. "You got your Romeo in the end and I was left fleeting from one boy to another."

Rachel pouted. "You got me in the end, when you could have gotten so much more."

"Like what? White picket fences, an accountant husband and three blonde kids?"

"No, of course not.", the brunette frowned. "But anything you wanted."

"Well, we've come full circle, haven't we? I got what I wanted, and now I don't have her again."

Rachel opened her mouth but was interrupted by Quinn. "You know what they say. Be careful for what you wish for. I wished for you, Rachel. But somewhere along the way, I forgot to wish for you to want me back."

"Quinn, that's not true.", Rachel protested vehemently. "Let me make it up to you. Please. One chance, that's all I'm asking."Rachel took Quinn's hand and squeezed it thrice. I love you; that's what it always meant. Quinn used to do that all the time in their quiet moments. "We should go back in, huh? The program's about to start", she smiled softly at the blonde.

"Yeah", Quinn sighed then flicked the cigarette off her hand.

"You know, I would never approve of smoking. But. I do admit you make it look cool."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Stop that."

"Okay, okay", the diva laughed while ushering their way back to their assigned table. "Are you ready?"

"Uhm, no. I don't think I will be."

Santana sauntered at the middle of the stage and tapped the microphone. "Alright, lesbians and gays. And everyone else in between and undefined" She was met with laughter and applause. "Love you, Alex", she blew a kiss at a transgender seated near the bar and Alex reciprocated. Quinn looked around and smiled proudly. Santana, God, who would've thought she will become New York College Scene's poster child of LGBT rights?

"Welcome to our _first_—and hopefully not the last—NYU LGBT Auction Night for Trevor Project." More applause and a few "yeahs" to boot. "I'm your organizer and host—because we're so cheap to hire someone else—Santana Lopez, hottest Latina this side of the borough."

Someone screamed, "JLo, who?"

"You're doing it right sweetheart. Keep it up and you might end up having dinner with me tonight, for free."

Several voices followed suit with "So can we bid for you?"

"If the price is right, honey", she seductively winked at a redhead behind Quinn. "But ask yourself first if you can handle me"

Quinn covered her face and screamed in delight while Rachel stood up and applauded loudly in unison with the crowd. "So listen y'all. The rules are simple. We have selected some of New York's finest college students from Columbia down to our friends at Fordham", Santana paused and winked at Quinn, "one by one, we will send them off to stage and you can bid to your heart's content for a chance to dine with them right above us on the second floor of this building –no, Tyler, there aren't any beds up there—

A dramatic groan of disappointment and howls of laughter. Quinn glanced at Rachel and both smirked at each other. Santana was definitely killing it.

"—So just to _clarify_, if things aren't clear yet, the winning bidder gets to have dinner—sponsored by our lovely partner, Therapy— with the auctioned person. Now, anything that happens after that is no longer the liability of our organization. So, don't even think of filing a lawsuit against us later on."

A collective "awww" was up in the air. Jesus, Santana was feeding the audience right at the palm of her hands.

"Just remember, all proceeds—from your tickets to the event, to the auction— will go to Manhattan's local Trevor Project's program focusing on violence against teen LGBT. So bid high and bid bullying goodbye."

"Well, that was catchy", Emily interjected upon return to their table. Quinn saw Rachel pout at the corner of her eye that the blonde couldn't help but chuckle softly. Rachel turned to face Emily. "You know, I think I have failed to ask what exactly do you do. I mean, besides being a graduate student."

Quinn straightened up and glanced back and forth to the two brunettes on both her sides.

"I do development work.", Emily smiled and nodded.

"How impressively…vague."

Quinn's eyes widened and breathed deeply. She can't recall the number of times she had done that tonight. Emily chuckled. This woman is made of ice. Or nerves of steel. "It means I go out to developing countries and do all sorts of things, wherever I'm needed. I was a UN volunteer for a few years at East Timor. Peacekeeping missions. That kind of stuff."

"So, you're just a regular Mother Teresa, huh?"

"Well, no. I don't build orphanages and take care of people stricken with leprosy.", the older woman smirked. She's pushing Rachel's buttons, Quinn realized. Emily leaned closer to Rachel. "I'm not _that_ kind."

The diva's smile faltered and was replaced with displeasure. "What do _you_ get in return, then?"

"Experience, knowledge", she looked at the blonde and continued, "authority and influence." Quinn's mouth contorted and tried to look away. "You'd be surprised, Rachel, how those things can change lives, too. I plan to put up my own NGO later on."

The brunette's expression transformed to vulnerability at the exchange of looks between Emily and Quinn. "In New York?"

With this, Emily paused and made like she was contemplating. "No", was her curt answer, much to the diva's relief. "Somewhere in Asia, maybe. In one of the former British colonies. It would be easier for me. Though everything's, as you say, impressively vague for now"

Quinn cleared her throat. "Uhm, it's starting, guys."

Rachel scooted closer to Quinn and whispered. "I don't trust politicians."

"Rachel", the blonde whispered back. "She's a development worker, not a politician."

"Same difference", the diva huffed then stared at the perfectly chiseled boy on the stage while Santana was making introductions.

Time went by quickly. The closer it got to Quinn's turn, the more agitated the blonde had become, hunching over, tapping her chin with her fingers, excusing herself for a cigarette break and gobbling down her drinks like it was water. The two brunettes kept looking at each other in a silently communicated amusement at the former HBIC's anxiety. When Quinn excused herself for a bathroom break, Emily asked the younger brunette, "Has she always had a stick—"

"Yes", Rachel nodded several times. "That's an absolute yes."

"Huh", the older brunette pursed her lips and looked at Rachel with sympathy. "You're a good woman, Rachel Berry."

Rachel chuckled at the musical reference. The moment she turned her attention back to the stage, she whispered to herself, "I wish I really was."

"What did I miss?", Quinn asked upon return.

"Nothing", the two brunettes said in unison.

"Oh-kay", the blonde quirked her eyebrows and took another swig from her glass.

She knew it was her turn when Santana's smile turned into a Cheshire-cat grin. "Okay, I need all your attention to this lady because this fine specimen is very close to my heart."

Fuck. Here we go.

"Here's the thing. We've known each other since forever and ruled our high school as bitches in charge. I will personally feel insulted if she doesn't fetch a good price tonight." Quinn muttered some curses under her breath and held on to her seat. "Here's one for all of you ladies who like it virginal and smart. She's the former cheerleading head and celibacy club president of McKinley High, Lima, Ohio—I know, perfect combination, right?"

Quinn felt the blood rush through her head and tuned out the whistles and hoots. "…Class Valedictorian and currently taking up Social Anthropology—whatever the fuck that means—at Fordham University. Let's all give our love to Quinn Fabray!"

It took her a few seconds and a push from both Emily and Rachel to actually get up from her seat then walk up to the stage. Santana gave her a quick hug and muttered words of encouragement. "Alright, we'll start in a few. Let's just allow the audience to cool themselves down, shall we? Quinn, anything you want to say?"

The blonde looked at Santana, furrowed her brows and shook her head. "Aww..Quinnie is shy", Santana chided playfully. "Say something so they would know what sexy voice you have that will make them _want_ to converse with you during dinner."

Quinn threw a bashful smile and a soft "hello"; the diva swore she heard a collective swoon from a group of women a few tables behind her. The night just got more competitive. The small brunette glanced at Emily and found the British woman unfettered by the warm response on Quinn and seemed to have been enjoying capturing the blonde's moment of glory—or humiliation—on her smartphone's camera.

"Okay, we begin. And we start with a…" Santana pointed to someone at the back. "We have fifty dollars here, ladies. Come on, you _know_ she's much more than _that_"

"Seventy-five!"

"And seventy-five, do I hear a hundred? Yes!", Santana pointed to a butch with a mohawk who waggled her eyebrows. Quinn's eyes locked with Rachel's. The brunette mouthed "Puck" then motioned with her hand "2.0" and laughed. The blonde smiled, closed her eyes, and then shook her head subtly. She opened her eyes, pointed at the diva then to herself. Rachel nodded and screamed, "hundred twenty five!"

The Latina grinned at Rachel. "A hundred twenty five, do I hear a hundred fifty? One hundred fifty anyone?"

"A hundred and fifty"

Ugh. That posh British accent. Rachel stared at Emily who smirked at her in return. The bitch was waiting for her to post a bid.

Oh, crap. Quinn thought. She forgot about Emily.

Rachel sat up straight and puffed her chest. Quinn recognized that stance. It was the diva's fighting posture. Let the games begin.

"One hundred seventy five", Rachel raised her finger the glared at Emily.

The British woman chuckled then leaned back in an annoyingly relaxed manner. "Two hundred"

"Two. Twenty Five."

It became apparent to the audience that there was a battle royale happening between the two women seated on the same table. A quiet agreement came about for no one else to bid and watch how things will unfold.

Emily's smile grew wider. This was turning out to be the best night of her life. "Two hundred and fifty".

A collective "oooh."

Rachel mentally calculated her money. She had 325 in her wallet. Nothing more, nothing less. She promised Santana she will fight it out, and she loved her life. The decision was easy. "Two seventy five"

A collective "hell, yeah."

Quinn glanced at Emily with pleading eyes. She wanted Emily to stop, she needed Emily to stop. But the British woman simply grinned and shrugged. "Three hundred"

Rachel took a deep breath. This was it, her last bid. And by the looks of it, Emily has thousands to spare. "Three hundred twenty five and a free performance from New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts's top student"

A collective gasp.

The diva turned around and faced the audience "…that's me, by the way", she said quietly. "In case… you're wondering."

Quinn looked at her with adoration. Santana glanced at her co-organizer who gave her a thumbs up. "Okay..we've got three hundred twenty five and a free performance. Anyone?" And by that, she meant Emily.

The older woman laughed, shook her head, and raised her hands up. "Can't compete with that."

There was thundering applause and roars of approval. "Just to clarify", Santana chuckled. "By performance, you mean? You will sing _for _Quinn on stage for our entertainment?"

Rachel's mouth hung. "I—okay"

"I don't get a say on this?", Quinn protested.

"Uhm, no. You're the prize as far as this event is concerned.", Santana whispered. "Okay!", she exclaimed. "Miss Berry, please claim your prize after your performance", she said as she pushed Quinn to sit on a chair backstage. "Lucky you, we have a live band", the Latina told Rachel.

"You said for me to do everything I can to win."

Santana nodded with pride. "And that's why I'm rooting for you."

The diva stepped closer to the band and huddled up for directions. Rachel flashed a huge smile upon realizing that the band can do what she had in mind. While waiting for a few more auctions, Rachel prepped up with Quinn simply gawking quietly at her ex-girlfriend giving instructions and tapping her foot at the bass's rhythm. She nodded and Quinn saw her mouth "perfect."

When the final bid happened, Santana announced the total amount raised and was pleased at the turn out. It was Rachel's turn to please someone, and the people waited in anticipation. No one knew their story, or what they're currently going through. All they saw was a girl who fought her way to win another girl's time and attention. It was sweet and romantic. No one can say no to that.

It was time. Santana pushed Quinn back on stage and by Rachel's order, made the blonde take a seat on the black stool. Rachel surveyed the stage and nodded. God bless the people who ran this as a whorehouse. She had everything she needed.

There was no need for further introductions. The band started playing the first chords of Paolo Nutini's Ten out of Ten but tweaked it into a jazzy cabaret style perfect for the stage set up and Rachel's intentions. Quinn recognized the song right away. It was always in her playlist. Rachel listened after all. She started in a slow, husky way "All the people wanna try you girl. And I hope you tell them where to go". Rachel flicked her hand with the last words and slowly descended from the upper part of the stage. "Cos I've got so much here to offer girl, Oh I love you more than you can know." She held on to the pole found on the left side. "Some people wanna speed it up, in fact I want to slow it down, I wanna get myself dressed up yeah, and take you out on the town" The brunette walked around the pole as she held on to it while singing "I'll be a model pupil tonight, babe, I wanna get ten out of ten. I'll be a model pupil tonight babe, I wanna get ten out of ten."

She stared at Quinn with predatory eyes that made the blonde feel shivers down her spine. "Everybody's got opinions girl, their own versions of a good idea". She stepped closer, "But the best one I can think of now, is to make sure that I keep you near" Perfect timing. Her hand gripped Quinn's shoulder then rubbed it as she sang, "And I know I've got to keep it up, cos I can see you're feeling down". With that she ran her hand down through the valley between Quinn's chest and rested at her torso. Rachel could see clearly the audience's gaped mouths and she could feel Quinn's breath rising and falling erratically. She immediately removed her hand like a tease and continued with, "And I wanna get myself get dressed up, yeah, and take you out on the town" They edited the song to make it shorter, skipped the chorus and went straight to "And get an A in the taxi,A in a restaurant, Get ten out of ten". Rachel stepped around and sat on Quinn's lap. "And an A in the kitchen." There was a pause from the band. "And an A in the bedroom", Rachel sang acapella to the phrase and smiled smugly at Emily. The band resumed with, "I get ten out of ten"

She finally faced Quinn and cupped her cheek as she breathed the final verse "You make it out of nothing, and turn it into something. And give it to you all for free. I'll be a model pupil tonight, babe. I wanna get ten out of ten"

While the crowd was rowdy downstairs, the ambiance at the second floor was made to be intimate. Rachel was riding high on her performance (and the fact that the audience was gay gave Rachel potential fans in Broadway, did boost the diva's ego) she ignored the food and Quinn's half-hearted protests. There was nothing the blonde could have done to stop Rachel from practically straddling the other girl and play tonsil hockey. There was fire in Rachel's eyes and the blonde was putty in the diva's hands. It was the story of her life. It would be written on her epitaph. Rachel could have dragged her back home, make love to her all night, and she would not have been able to resist it. But there was a lot to fix and sex would not have changed anything. Rachel slowly retreated and promised this was just the beginning to a half-dazed Quinn leaning against the door of Santana's apartment.

It was a mixture of hope and dread that Rachel left Quinn to deal with. She was going to give Rachel one more chance, however, this time, the blonde won't be going off without some form of armor. It shouldn't be like this, but Rachel had left Quinn feeling like a wounded soldier who went home to nothing after years of battle. This is going to be a long, protracted war.

A/N: Fabathroom. That's all I can say and all I care about. Oh, and yes, reviews and comments.


	15. Chapter 15

_It's a question of lust, it's a question of trust_

_It's a question of not letting what we build up, crumble to dust_

_It is all of these things and more_

_That keep us together_

_-Question of Lust_

"Emily does this, Emily said this, Emily told me to work on this. Yadedadeda. I'm telling you, Kurt. It's so…damn frustrating." Rachel curled up in her love seat with the stuffed bear Quinn gave her on their first year together close to her chest. "She's like Yoda in stilettos."

Kurt scooped a huge glop of ice cream and rolled his eyes before placing it in his mouth. "As opposed to Finn this, Finn that?"

"That's not—"

"_Of course_, it's not the same, Rachel. ", the petite boy countered with a haughty expression. "Even if it is annoying, Emily came _after_ your relationship with Quinn. You spent three years with Quinn _while _being obsessed with my stepbrother. Is she even _with_ Emily?"

The brunette chewed her lip and picked the loose fur off the plushie. "No…no, she's not. I think. I'm not sure. They had mind-blowing sex. That much I know. I don't know if they've done it again after the hickey fiasco at the café."

"But they went together at the auction? I still hate you for not bringing me there, by the way"

"I told you, Santana notified me at the last minute!", Rachel said defensively then deflated. "They went in together. I don't know if it was intended to be a date."

"But you're the one who took her home." Kurt nodded as he scooped more ice cream from the tub. "So, it most likely wasn't a date."

Rachel smiled at the memory and spoke in a reserved manner. "Yeah..we kind of..", she giggled.

Kurt's eyes widened. "Kind of what?"

"Made out.", she mumbled with her lip caught in between her teeth. "Well, I made sure she had no choice". Rachel grinned smugly.

The boy's face fell in disappointment. "Oh. Made out."

The brunette sat up. "Hey, that's a big step."

"Towards what?"

"Towards…", she frowned then curled up again. "I don't know."

"See, there's wisdom to what Quinn wanted? You, not throwing yourself at her." He shook his head. "She knows it's really not going to do any good for both of you."

"But I couldn't help myself. I miss kissing her. And she looked so pretty that night, Kurt. And smelled really nice—I don't know how she manages not to smell like cigarettes—and, and.."

"And you wanted to show the world she's yours. Not Emily's or anyone else in that venue"

"Yeah.."

"But she's not yours anymore."

"Don't you think I don't know that?", Rachel sighed then bit the bear's ear.

"No, I don't think you know that. She's been yours for a long time; I don't think you know what it's like anymore for Quinn _not_ being yours." He waved his hand up in air. "Ergo, your latent violent tendencies coming out at the mere mention of Emily Carr."

Rachel's face scrunched up. "I miss her."

"She's in China, right?"

"Yeah", she smiled proudly. "We'll be chatting online later."

"How long will she be there?"

"Five days."

"Just five days. And you _still_ have to chat online?"

"I asked her to"

"Rachel, I think you're doing this all wrong."

"Why? I'm trying to rebuild our friendship, Kurt"

"So, don't make out with her. And give her space."

"Then she runs to Emily. Kurt, Quinn's like her pet. She clicks her fingers and Quinn follows her without question."

"I highly doubt that's how their rela—dynamic is.", Kurt frowned, remembering clearly his assessment during their dinner. He secretly liked Emily and part of him genuinely thought the older woman looked good on Quinn. "You could just be overreacting."

"No, I'm serious. Even Santana thinks Quinn's like Emily's lap dog these days."

"She seems to be good for Quinn."

"I do not like you right now, Kurt Hummel."

" Rachel, you didn't see them interact the way I did. I know it's not a nice thing to hear, but, Emily actually has a lot of faith on Quinn and is helping her reach full potential. I can't really say you did the same."

"What are you talking about? I've always been proud of her."

"Proud, yes. Interested in her passions? No. Not the same way you expected her to support you."

"I'm trying to do that _now_"

"Well, that's good."

"It's not my fault I'm not an intellectual, Kurt."

The boy rolled his eyes. "I don't think she ever expected you to talk about theories and philosophies. But you never tried to understand her interests. You tease her about being a hipster and anti-mainstream. But really, did you ever once stop to figure out, why she feels strongly for or against something?"

"I—no, not really. But she didn't talk a lot, Kurt. It was always hard for me to know what was on her mind."

"Maybe you and Finn really _are_ made for each other.", the boy sighed and shook his head. "Listen. You're my best friend and I want to see you happy. But I can't lie to you and say I don't feel an ounce of sympathy for Quinn." He raised a finger to stop Rachel from talking. "I know, you're going to say she wasn't perfect. That has been your defense since day one. And yes, every horrible thing she did, I don't justify and certainly should be addressed by her. But if you are going to be perfectly honest to yourself, Rachel, a lot of things that Quinn did was a reaction to your screw ups."

"She did a _lot _of things that's considered unforgivable by some."

"Like what, hmm?"

"Like slapping me in the face. Again."

"Because you freaking mumbled Finn's name while she was trying to give you an orgasm!"

"I was drunk!" Rachel worried her lip. "That… kind of made me confuse their names."

"That doesn't make it any less painful! God, Rachel. I can't believe you're still justifying _that_. Even I think that was a very kind reaction on her part. When you told me that, it made me want to throw up. And you know what else made me feel sick?"

"What?"

"_She_ came crawling back to you, apologizing profusely for what she did. If I were in her place, I would not have apologized for that. Ever. What you did wasn't even enough for her to walk out for good."

Rachel held on to her stuffed toy tighter. "Was I really that bad?"

Kurt sighed heavily. "No, no I don't think so. You had your moments and I think that's what Quinn's trying to hold on to. For some reason, you made her happy. I'm only guessing that, because really, what could make her still agree to give this another shot?"

"I've been wondering that, myself."

"Have you asked her?"

Rachel shook her head and pouted. "We haven't actually had the time to talk after the auction."

"Because you were busy making out?"

"I wish, but no.", the brunette sighed dramatically. "School work's getting in the way. And _Emily_."

Kurt furrowed his brows. "Did she really tell you she's giving this another chance? Like it came right out of her mouth."

"Yes! I'm not that delusional, okay? She said it."

"But she still spends more time with Emily than with you."

"I think…I think she's testing me, you know? So I'm trying to be really patient."

"Rachel, have you really made up your mind? I mean, are you really sure it's Quinn you love and not Finn?"

Rachel stared into Kurt's eyes. "Yes", she said with much resolve. "It's Quinn I'm in love with."

She knew it the moment her heart shattered into pieces when _those_ words came out. Quinn told her to go back to Lima and fuck Finn Hudson, she bit back and told the blonde that she will with gusto; that she was only with Quinn out of guilt and convenience. That not marrying Finn was the worst decision she ever made. Unspoken was the corollary to that—being with Quinn was the worst decision she had ever made.

Quinn didn't cry nor scream. She didn't lift a finger. Quinn pursed her lips and nodded several times slowly, as if she knew those things all along. She spoke quietly—broken—apologizing for ruining Rachel's relationship with Finn and that she would be out of the brunette's life as soon as possible. And when the brunette tried to reach for Quinn, she didn't fight. She allowed Rachel to hold her but did not reciprocate. That was Rachel Berry's defining moment. Because it killed her not to feel Quinn hold her back. They had many fights in the past, but the blonde never withheld affection when Rachel demanded for it. And that was when she realized it was Quinn all along.

The last month leading to their break up was their hell upon earth. It started when Finn decided to give Kurt a surprise visit. Quinn's icy façade began to show cracks. Maybe it was because it was easier to deal with things when the person concerned is miles away. But here he was, in the flesh, looking dapper and more mature. A few days since his arrival and it became very clear that he wasn't the boy they all maligned. He wasn't _yet_ the man Rachel wanted but he was in transition. They fought almost every day, because Rachel thought it would be polite to be good hosts and took Finn around the city. They had recently gotten engaged. In typical Fabray-Berry interaction, the idea simply popped in their heads one night—while watching an episode of Law and Order SVU—when Quinn made a comment about marital rights and hospital policies. Rachel panicked and thought of worst case scenarios. So they got engaged. Rachel assured Quinn it wasn't just because of that though. They had been living together for almost three years and the brunette said it was about time. Then Finn had to come along. And Rachel had to forget about Quinn in those two weeks. It was childish; they could have dealt with it better. But all those years of pent up hurt, anger and lack of communication broke the proverbial dam for Quinn.

So Rachel found herself in the defensive. Quinn always had temper problems but it spiraled out of control to the point that the brunette felt fear—something she had not felt with Quinn for a long, long time. No, Quinn didn't physically hurt her again, but was at the brink of verbal abuse which was exactly what led them to their final confrontation. Their whole world turned into chaos, and then everything went silent with their only their breaths that dared resonate.

It was cathartic.

Because Quinn finally found the voice she lost ever since she fell in love with Rachel.

And Rachel realized she loved Quinn with all her imperfections.

And right now, she was loving Quinn in all her dorkiness as the blonde maneuvered her way through a crowd at JFK Airport wearing an oversized "I climbed the Great Wall" shirt and a Chairman Mao cap. "Ni Hao Ma!", Quinn exclaimed then chuckled as she gave Rachel a bear hug.

"Oh my god", the brunette laughed. "How was your flight?"

"It was horrible. But your voice kept me calm", the blonde grinned. Rachel knew Quinn hated flying but loved the idea of traveling, so the diva decided to compile songs she had recorded over the years (you never know if and when a producer spots you) and synced them on the blonde's Walkman Mp3 ("I'm _not_ anti-Apple, Rachel, I have a freaking Iphone. It's just Walkman is nostalgic", said Quinn.)

"Well, I'm glad it did just that" Rachel took one of Quinn's bags and hooked her arm on the blonde's as they headed to Santana's car. "And how was the conference?"

Quinn's eyes twinkled. "It was.._amazing_, Rachel. I met so many people and there was this one scholar from the Max Planck Institute in Germany . He actually wants to collaborate for a research, develop my work when I get to Master's level. _Collaborate_. Not me as his research assistant. Like we're going to be co-authors, Rach. He gave me his card."

Rachel really wasn't familiar of academe-speak, but she liked how co-authors sounded. She hugged Quinn and whispered, "I'm _so_ proud of you", before opening the passenger side for the blonde.

"Thanks", Quinn beamed. "And thanks for picking me up."

"I wouldn't have it any other way"

Quinn kept readjusting her cap throughout the drive which amused Rachel to no end. "Quinn, you look good in it. I'm just not sure if Homeland Security will appreciate you wearing a communist hat."

"Pfft. It's working class fashion. They don't have a problem ironing Che Guevarra's face on a shirt"

"And what do you know about being working class, hmm?"

"And why are you engaging me in a conversation about class division?", Quinn chuckled in amusement.

"It was a valid question!"

"Fine, I do not know anything about being working class. But the hat _is_ cool"

"Yes, it is"

Quinn relaxed in her seat and looked at Rachel. "I got you a lot of stuff"

"No snakes in a bottle posing as wine?"

"No", the blonde laughed. "Nothing like that."

"Good", Rachel sighed in relief.

The drive back was relatively quick and they were in Santana's apartment in no time. Despite Rachel's protestations, Quinn didn't get some rest and insisted at going ahead with giving the brunette the things she bought. The great thing about having an ex-girlfriend with a weird mind is that she will never settle for the usual souvenir items like magnets and keychains. Or maybe, just maybe, Quinn still treated her as someone special. The brunette convinced herself it was the latter because she absolutely loved her new set of ceramic vases, tea set and silk robes.

"So did you really get to climb the Great Wall?" Rachel asked in between peppering Quinn's neck with soft but lingering kisses. Ignoring Kurt's advice a few days ago, Rachel felt that Quinn leading her inside, what she now uses as, her room as a sign. Okay, so Quinn didn't actually lead her in. The blonde went inside and she followed. Unnecessary detail. It didn't take much, really. The brunette was beginning to realize Quinn wasn't exaggerating about the effects of Rachel's kisses on her. She tried to recall the past, and yes, she can't think of a moment when Quinn was able to fully resist her kisses even when the blonde was annoyed at her.

"Yeah", the blonde sighed contently. "I went to the highest point of the Wall in Beijing".

Rachel felt Quinn swallowing thickly. It made her smirk. The blonde loved it when her neck was given attention. "Did you take lots of photos?"

"Y-yeah..but" Rachel felt slender hands comb through her hair. "It was very foggy so, I need to, uh, edit them first."

"Okay", Rachel murmured against the blonde's pale skin before deciding it was safe to go lower, settling on the collarbone. "Where else did you go?"

"The…uhm, Forbidden City", Quinn swallowed.

"Why's it called that way?" She felt Quinn's hand glide lower to the small of her back and the diva felt like she was about to explode already. She nipped pale skin in response.

Quinn opened her mouth and eyes and stared at the ceiling. "Because the emperor..", she exhaled sharply, "the emperor lived there so..oh..that..that feels good"

Rachel giggled. "I'm sure it feels good to live with the Emperor" She slid upwards and kissed Quinn's ear.

It became too much for Quinn. "Rach..Rach, stop."

The diva withdrew immediately and rolled to her side. "I'm sorry.."

"Somehow I don't think you really are", Quinn chuckled breathlessly.

"Do you want me to be?", Rachel smiled as she lifted her head using her elbow as support.

The blonde shook her head and smiled.

She always smiled perfectly, Rachel thought. But whoever is calling on the blonde's cellphone won't be smiling anytime soon if the brunette had her way.

Quinn reached for her phone. "Hey, Em, what's up? Yeah I'm back." Quinn glanced nervously at Rachel who raised her eyebrow and mouthed "Em?"

"Uhm, yeah, maybe tomorrow? Yeah, you're right… Oh shut up.", she glanced at Rachel again and chuckled. Emily, on the other end of the line, picked up right away that she was with the diva and made a comment about putting their private lessons into good use with the smaller brunette. "You're annoying right now. Bye.", Quinn ended.

The playful tone on Quinn's voice while talking to Emily made the brunette irrationally infuriated but was pacified by the blonde's gesture of turning off the phone and giving her a peck on the lips. "Do you want me to make coffee?", Quinn asked sweetly while rubbing the other girl's arm.

"Are you sure you don't want to…see her?"

Quinn quirked her brows and gave her a knowing look.

_Rachel: Wow, this is actually the first time I'm using Gmail's chat service. _

_Quinn: If you say something about me being anti-Skype, Rachel, I will go offline. _

_Rachel: No cracks about your choices as a consumer. I promise. _

_Quinn: Great. How are you?_

_Rachel: Missing you. _

_Quinn: I miss you, too. _

_Rachel: But are you enjoying your trip, so far?_

_Quinn: Yeah, I just got back from the day tour. I'm just going to have dinner here in my room because I want to chat with you. _

_Rachel: Sure? You might be missing out on Chinese girls._

_Quinn: Logging off now. _

_Rachel: JOKE! I WAS JOKING!_

_Quinn: Sure. _

_Rachel: You really can't expect me to assume that no one's asked for your number. It's a student conference, right?_

_Quinn: Rach, some did ask for my contact details. THAT'S CALLED NETWORKING. I'm not whoring myself around. _

_Rachel: Hey, that's harsh. I never implied that. _

_Quinn: Never said you did. Just making sure you know. _

_Rachel: Appreciated. _

_Quinn: I can't access Facebook here. It's banned. _

_Rachel: And you care because?_

_Quinn: I want to post some of my photos. _

_Rachel: Since when did you care about posting photos on Facebook?_

_Quinn: Since I'm in freaking Beijing. I need to brag about it. _

_Quinn: …Hey, that's a good band name. Freaking Beijing. _

_Rachel: Album title—DORK_

_Quinn: Welcome to the dork side. _

_Rachel: OMG. You just didn't._

_Quinn: I did. _

_Rachel: ANYWAY. Why don't you shoot me an email and attach some photos, I'll upload them for you. You haven't changed your password, have you?_

_Quinn: …no._

_Rachel: Rachel berry is mine forever and ever, right? One word, no caps. _

_Quinn: something like that. _

_Rachel: Your ears are red. I can almost see them. _

_Quinn: Shut up. _

_Rachel: Make me. _

_Quinn: I can't. Virtual kisses don't work on you._

_Rachel: You're being cocky now? You think your kisses can make me shut up?_

_Quinn: It always did, before. _

_Rachel: Rolling my eyes. _

_Quinn: I'm that good, huh?_

_Rachel: Logging off now. _

_Quinn: That would make me a sad panda._

_Rachel: Aww. The images in my head! Are you gonna see them?_

_Quinn: Yeah! Tomorrow!_

_Rachel: Try to smuggle one for me. _

_Quinn: Okay. Noted. You know what's cool? I met some people here who know Emily. I'm halfway across the world. _

_Rachel: Quinn, can I be honest for one moment?_

_Quinn: Of course. _

_Rachel: I'm glad Emily's out to save the world and all. But. Can you not talk about her with me? _

_Quinn: Oh. Sorry..._

_Rachel: You don't have to apologize. I just figured that since we're trying to be honest with each other, might as well come clean about it. _

_Quinn: Yeah, you're right. And thank you for telling me. _

_Rachel: But before we implement that rule, can I ask you something about her?_

_Quinn: Sure, I guess. _

_Rachel: Okay..are you and Emily still engaging in sexual activities?_

_Quinn: No, not since we kissed after the auctions._

_Rachel: Oh, okay. I can't lie. I'm happy about that._

_Quinn: Rach, I will still see Emily. I don't want you to be hung up on the fact that we had sex. _

_Rachel: I'll try not to. _

_Quinn: You need to do more than that. Rach. This isn't just about Emily. _

_Rachel: I know, I know. I need to stop comparing myself to other women. _

The diva slowly cracked a genuinely huge smile. "Okay, okay.", she nodded. Quinn makes the best coffee. Well, because, Quinn knows how she likes it. So she tugged the blonde's hand and pulled them out of bed because she understood that look. It was Quinn reminding her of their Gchat conversation a couple of days ago and how Rachel should not be look at other women as a focal point of their relationship right now. But this is where theory is separated from practice. She tried focusing on the knowledge that Quinn turned down Emily for her. It could be a good step; concentrating on the fact that the blonde always prioritized her, so at any point of comparison, she just needed to remind herself that as far as Quinn is concerned, no one went above Rachel. That made her smile, and felt more at ease for the first time in a long while.

A/N: You guys are angels, I swear. Your comments and reviews never fail to give me energy for this fic.


	16. Chapter 16

_All my time is froze in motion _

_Can't I stay an hour or two or more_

_Don't let me let you go_

_-Here's to the Night_

* * *

><p>"Santana, I swear to god, I will find out what you're up to."<p>

Damn. The HBIC is back. Quinn stood in front of a lounging Santana and blocked the television.

The Latina stared back defiantly. "I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about. Get your thunder thighs away from my line of vision."

Quinn placed her hands on her hips. "You're really playing that game with me? What are you doing with Rachel?"

_Free for some mid-morning delight?_

_Is that an indecent proposal?_

_If you're open to it. But otherwise, it's just me inviting you for coffee. _

_Har har. Nice save. I can't though._

_Emily?_

_You're violating your own rule. And no, I'm not seeing her. _

_Okay, sorry. What's keeping you busy, then?_

_I have anger management class. _

_Rachel furrowed her brows and read the message twice. Texting won't do so she speed dialed Quinn. "Anger management?"_

"_Hello to you, too, Miss Berry."_

"_Yes, hello", Rachel laughed. "Sorry, I just, really? Since when?"_

_She could hear Quinn breathing and contemplating on her response. "A week after I moved out."_

"_That's…that's great, Quinn. How is it for you?"_

"_I don't know", Quinn chuckled. "You tell me."_

_Rachel smiled. "There had been changes, now that I think about it."_

"_Or maybe that's just power of suggestion."_

"_No, no. It's not. You really have been more in control of your temper."_

"_Yeah? Well, that's good. My money's not going down the drain, then."_

"_Do you still see your shrink?"_

"_Yeah, twice a month. "_

"_Great..that's really great."_

"_Sessions normally take two hours. Are you free for lunch?"_

"_Oh, I'm meeting Santana about that time."_

_Quinn stopped on her tracks. "Santana?"_

"_Yes, Lopez."_

"_Well, duh. But why?"_

"_Because we're friends?"_

"_She never mentioned meeting up with you."_

"_Does she need to?", Rachel smiled and shook her head. _

"_No..", Quinn frowned. "I guess not. But you're ditching me for Santana."_

"_I'm not ditching you for Santana. You're welcome to join us. Our date was scheduled way ahead of your invitation."_

"_Date?"_

"_Do you know in some cultures, it's perfectly normal to use the term date –or their equivalent word—for two girls who are friends when they go out or meet up?"_

"_Oh. Okay. It's fine, I might as well just finish some lag work."_

"_Okay", Rachel chuckled._

"_Hey, you're mocking me, aren't you?"_

"_Of course not."_

"_Why are you hanging out with her?"_

"_Why do you make it sound like it's a bad thing?"_

"_It's not. Just…unusual."_

"_You're just naturally suspicious. That's all."_

"_Well, you and Santana…that's a volatile combination."_

"_Please, don't tell me you're jealous of your best friend."_

"_Me?", Quinn scoffed. "I don't see Santana as a threat."_

_Rachel held back her tongue. Quinn's voice gave it away. "Okay"_

"_I really don't."_

"_I said, okay", Rachel laughed._

"I'm _not_ doing anything with Rachel" Santana narrowed her eyes on Quinn then burst into a mocking laugh. "As I live and breathe, you're jealous. You're actually jealous!"

"I'm not!"

Santana sat up and patted the space next to her. Quinn kicked an invisible stone then plopped beside the Latina. "What?"

"I _should_ be throwing that question back at you, Quinn. What _are_ you up to? What're you doing with Rachel?"

Quinn looked down and picked the ends of her fingernails. "I don't know."

"That's not a good answer, Q. Try again."

"That's all you're getting from me. I really don't know."

"You guys fool around. What's up with that?"

"You talk about me!" Quinn looked absolutely mortified.

"No, we talk about Artie because he's our greatest common factor" Santana rolled her eyes. "Of course, we talk about you"

"We don't…we don't really fool around."

"I suppose. With the lack of real action, yeah."

"Why? Was she complaining to you?"

"Well…", Santana bit her inner cheek and tried to stifle a laugh. "Considering you're applying the same rules you used on your ex-boyfriends…you're being one hell of a bitch by teasing her that way. I mean, Q, seriously? Under the shirt, over the bra? What are you? Fifteen?"

"She told you _that?_" Quinn slumped back with her face reddening. "I can't believe she told you that. I'm honestly disturbed by this sudden bond you have with her."

"Stop deflecting", the Latina cackled. "I am so amused by the two of you."

The blonde twisted her lips and furrowed her brows deeply. "I have to create boundaries somewhere, S. She's been…", Quinn looked up and blew air through her bangs, " very aggressive lately."

"I'm pretty sure, you would know how to handle something like that by now" Santana waggled her eyebrows and smirked.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Because of Emily?"

"Uh huh"

"That's different."

"So it's okay to be someone else's bitch but not Rachel's?"

"I'm _not _Emily's bitch."

"Was"

"_Never_"

"Sure"

"_Anyway_, you're also deflecting. Why are you and Rachel suddenly BFFs?"

"She wants to be more active in the LGBT community, so we're brainstorming for possible projects." Santana mentally patted her own back. Damn, she's quick and good.

"Oh, that's really great."

"Yeah, because _my_ best friend hardly does anything to help me."

"Hey, I sold myself for charity."

"To Rachel. And you brought Emily as a safety net. That's hardly sacrifice. And please, your make out session that night had become legendary. Some of my friends still talk about it. It's disgusting."

"This..I don't know, new side of her is driving me insane."

"Good or bad insane?"

Quinn pursed her lips, smiled impishly then tucked her leg under her other thigh.

"I'll take that as good."

The blonde's smile grew wider.

"Oh my god, you're thinking about her right now!" The Latina grimaced then snapped her fingers. "Stop that!"

Quinn glared then pouted. "I don't know what to make of it, actually. She was never touchy-feely with me in public. While she initiated a lot behind closed doors before, it was never…she practically jumps at me. I told her that we shouldn't be like that. But whenever she crosses the line, I can't resist her."

"So, you resort to Virgin Quinn methods"

"Yeah"

"I really wanna laugh at you right now if not for the fact that you and Rachel are way in too deep."

Sighing, Quinn took out her phone and scrolled down for her messages. She clicked one and then showed it to Santana.

"Quinn, I'm going back to England for the holidays. You're welcome to join me. I'm seeing some of my old peers from SOAS and I'd like you to be able to meet them. Let me know if you can make it and I'll make necessary arrangements.", Santana read out loud then looked at Quinn. "Well, are you?"

"I don't know. I feel like if I join her, I would hurt Rachel so much, and I don't want that. I already hurt her in the past, and I'm not stupid to think she's not hurting right now."

"Then, talk to her about this. That should, at least, let her know you're considering her feelings."

"She asked me not to talk about Emily"

"She asked you not to fangirl. Face it, Rachel will never convert to the Church of Emily Carr. This issue is different."

The blonde exhaled then nodded her head several times. "There's no other way to go about this?"

"There are. But you're already bordering on being a first class asshole by swinging back and forth from Rachel to Emily. Don't let me give you a badge and a card by lying about this England trip."

"When did you become so smart?", Quinn asked playfully while rubbing Santana's head.

"Fuck you", Santana laughed. "I've always been smart."

Here's the thing. Quinn always knew she can be an asshole. She was after all, a Fabray. It's in her DNA and upbringing. Rachel had tempered that when it came down to dealing with other people. Being able to assuage her from being contemptible in their relationship is another story altogether. Santana wasn't really being accurate in describing her relationship with Rachel and Emily. Rachel loved her, while Emily, well, god knows what it is that woman feels—or if she's even capable of feeling—but whatever it was, Quinn was certain it wasn't romantic and they both have no pretention about it. At best, Quinn's feelings for Emily can be described as a schoolgirl crush. At worst, she is using the older woman in all aspects. Except sex. Well, not anymore. Because despite her loathsome ways, Quinn still had a conscience hidden somewhere and occasionally peeped out to knock some sense in her. Not to say she didn't miss it. It _was_ good. Though if she was being honest with herself, sex with Rachel was definitely better. Because Quinn loved the way the diva makes those little sounds of approval or mumbles her name (99% of the time, Rachel got it right, okay?), or when—Quinn shook her head violently, casting off her thoughts. She's _not_ comparing the two women again. It's unfair to Rachel. The old man directly facing her on the bus gave her a curious look. She smiled then looked down and busied herself with her mp3 player. Pushing the shuffle button, London Rain played. Oh god, really?

It was odd to be back in her old apartment building. It felt familiar and foreign at the same time. Rachel asked for her help to wrap holiday gifts. It was late November and Quinn had to make a decision as soon as possible regarding her trip to England. This was the perfect opportunity. Or the worst possible time. Either way, she can't prolong this anymore.

The doorman didn't even use the intercom. Diego was on duty and he was always Quinn's favorite. The burly Peruvian held the door and simply asked "back for good, Miss Fabray?" with optimism written all over his face. The blonde smiled though shook her head and mumbled, "Not for now, my good huachiman. But who knows?"

"Well, don't take too long.", he leaned closer and whispered, "there's a gangly boy that always visits Miss Berry."

"Kurt?"

"Oh, no. I know Mister Hummel very well, mi hija. This one's different. Taller than you. About this high?", the man raised his hand a few inches above Quinn's head. "Kieran"

"Kieran Murphy", Quinn nodded. "Thanks for the intelligence report, Jiggy-man"

"Anytime, mi hija", he said with a salute.

Well, hell. This is the moment when her decisions came back to bite her behind, Quinn thought. If something is going on between Rachel and Kieran, she can't exactly get mad at the brunette. All the more she can't get pissed if Rachel chose not to tell her. Most maddening part is she can't demand Rachel not to see him again. Ever. Imitating a piranha gasping for air in a drying Amazon River, Quinn thought of ways on how to bring up Kieran in their conversation later as the elevator went up. She can't think of any. Because Quinn Fabray can write and deliver a paper on Social Exclusion and State-led Policy on Social Justice in Harlem, but would never be able to adequately verbalize her feelings.

Rachel was in holiday mode if one bases it on the smile tattooed on her face. "Quinn", she breathed out then pushed herself to hug the other girl. "Come in."

That was weird. Rachel welcoming her inside their apartment. It was technically Quinn's. At least as far as the Coop is concerned. She was the one that signed the lease, and they have not gotten around to updating the contract. Or maybe they refused to. Changing the lessee's name forces them to face reality. Maybe some other time. Or until the Coop realizes they're violating rules.

Nothing much has changed, the blonde noted. Quinn cursed her muscle memory because without any prompt, she went inside their walk in closet, hung her coat and removed her boots. "I..", she pointed to the room when she stepped out and joined Rachel in the kitchen. The brunette smiled and nodded. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Holiday cookies?"

Rachel slapped the blonde's hand that was ready to swipe some of the dough and eat it. "You're a salmonella victim waiting to happen"

Rubbing the back of her palm, Quinn pouted, "You know, I have yet to hear anyone die by eating cookie dough."

"Do you really want to be in Wikipedia as the first case?"

"Well, we all aim for some form of notoriety…"

"Don't.", Rachel grabbed Quinn's finger that was once again threatening to dip inside the bowl. "You. Are. Incorrigible. Out. Shoo. Go watch some tv", Rachel ordered then pushed Quinn out of the kitchen.

"Grinch", Quinn shot back mid-way to the living room. She scratched her head while surveying several boxes and wrapping paper spread out on the floor. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed an unfinished book on the couch and picked it up. She chuckled. "Ender's Game?"

Rachel stuck out her head from the kitchen. "That's yours."

"Yeah, I know. You're reading it?"

"I couldn't sleep one night. It sounded interesting. I thought it had something to do with Hunger Games."

The blonde laughed loudly. "This is a lot older than Hunger Games."

"I realized", the brunette grinned.

"How do you like it?"

"Cookies should be done in an hour." Rachel smiled widely then sat down on the couch. "I thought I'd have to navigate my way through sci-fi jargon. I mean, when you tried to make me read Isaac Asimov…", she shook her head. "I like the fact that it's about human behavior set in a high tech universe. I can actually understand and relate to it."

"You're Bean."

"Yes, well—HEY! Just because I'm small.", Rachel frowned deeply.

"No, well, yeah, that too. But also because Ender was the hot stuff in Battle School and brushed off Bean. Then Bean challenged that without compromising himself until Ender saw what he's worth."

"So, you're saying…you're Ender?"

The blonde chuckled then sat next to Rachel. "Maybe."

"So you're saying you're the hot stuff."

"I am. It's futile to deny that."

"Oh god", the diva pushed Quinn playfully. "You are so conceited!"

"Do I need to remind someone that she spent three hundred dollars to have dinner with yours truly?."

"You'll _never_ make me forget that, hmm?"

"Never", Quinn emphasized with an emphatic nod.

"So anyway, oh hot one, help me wrap my gifts?"

Quinn turned around and stared boxes again. "I can see you do need help."

"Yes, I figured since we didn't come home last Thanksgiving…", Rachel eyed Quinn tentatively but when Quinn only nodded in agreement, she continued, "I thought I'd make it up by celebrating the true meaning of Hanukkah—lots and lots of gifts", she giggled.

Okay. Here it goes. Quinn can feel it.

"We can…", Rachel nervously tucked her hair, "we can still share? I mean…no one back home really knows we..you know, and, anyway, we'd basically be giving gifts to the same group of people, so, we can distribute them together..I don't know…" She exhaled then looked at Quinn expectantly. "What do you think?"

How did she rehearse this? Fuck.

"Rach…", she said softly then took the brunette's hand.

"We don't have to if you're not comfortable with that", Rachel said in one breath.

"No..it's not that part." The blonde worried her lip and ran her thumb over Rachel's hand in a soothing manner. "I…I might not be home for the holidays. I mean, I wanted to discuss that with you."

"Why not?"

"I've…I have an invitation to spend the holidays in England."

"Oh", Rachel nodded knowingly then withdrew her hand from Quinn's. "Emily."

"It's not because of her, Rach. She's going to introduce me to some of her colleagues from SOAS and—"

"SOAS?"

"School of Oriental and African Studies"

Rachel furrowed her brows. "You're not even in that field."

"Actually, it's not a field…it's a multidisciplinary—"

"Okay", Rachel interjected harshly. She's not in the mood to be educated right now. "So, you're going to England, then."

"No, I wanted to talk to you about that _first_". Quinn took a deep breath. The diva could see the other girl was struggling to keep her temper in check. "I've not made a decision."

"You sound like you already have"

"No, I haven't, Rachel. I want to talk to you about—"

"You should go", the diva nodded. "To England. You should go to England."

"Rachel, there's something you need—"

Rachel forced a smile and placed her hand on top of Quinn's. "This is a wonderful opportunity for you to—", Rachel stopped herself then stood up and took a box on the floor. "Here"

Quinn looked up and reached for it. "What's this?"

"It's my Christmas gift for you. But since you won't be home, you should have it now."

"It's still November, Rachel" Quinn stared into Rachel's eyes sadly and filled with disappointment. "So… that's it?"

"Why don't you open it?", Rachel sat down again, ignoring Quinn's question. "Santana helped me out on this one, because I wanted to make sure it's something you'll really appreciate."

Quinn's mouth hung opened in disbelief. "Thanks", she said quietly. She slowly opened the box and twitched her mouth into a smile at the sight of a framed Haruna Kawanishi photo re-reprint. "So..this is what you've been up to with S?"

The brunette nodded. "Do you like it?"

"I love it", Quinn smiled sadly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm glad."

Quinn felt her throat closing in. A part of her wanted Rachel to stop her from going, and the blonde most likely would have acquiesced. Sure, she would want to see England and meet all those people, but what she wanted the most was for Rachel to tell her not to go with Emily. That if she wanted to meet those people, the brunette would go with her. Quinn was ready to say those things. She didn't expect Rachel to act the way she did.

"This is a good thing, I guess", Quinn finally blurted out. "I'll have some time with myself. Figure what I want. And you'll have time to figure out what you want."

Rachel tilted her head and furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"

"If you really want me or Finn."

"Quinn", Rachel's posture straightened up. "I know you find it hard to believe, but it's you I love."

"You said that before. Didn't turn out to be true."

"Look, I know I messed up—"

"Why are you still with me, anyway? Why are you trying to fix this?"

Rachel's mouth opened then closed. "Quinn, again, because I love you"

"You said. You loved me." Quinn drawled out. "But then you also said you were only with me out of guilt. So what should I believe now?"

"That I love you", Rachel placed her hand over her chest. "I know, okay? I know you're finding this hard to believe but I realized that when I lost you."

"You spent three years deceiving me, Rachel. I know I'm not a saint. I know I've done a lot of awful things. But my feelings for you were not built on lies."

"I'm sorry…", Rachel shook her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Quinn."

"I would appreciate it if you'd come clean now", the blonde said softly.

"Quinn..", Rachel gasped. "I love you. That's the reason. That's the only reason."

"How do I know that you're not pursuing me because you feel guilty again? Because you know I'm devastated by the truth?"

"The truth.." Rachel scooted closer and took the other girl's hands and held it close to her chest. "The truth is that I felt guilty about the accident. Finn broke up with me because I was spending too much time with you. I didn't want us to break up. I know I've been such an idiot, Quinn, for being too caught up in my failed relationship with Finn. When you left, I realized I've been in love with you all this time. Please. Please, trust me. This isn't guilt-driven."

The blonde looked down and frowned. "I think…I was wrong in not asking for distance. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—I think we need it. I need to make up my mind."

"I thought you said you don't have romantic feelings for her?"

"This isn't about choosing between you and Emily, Rachel. I don't have to make that choice, because if it's between her and you, it's you. It will always be you. What I need…What I need is for you to decide if Finn—"

"I don't love Finn."

"You say that now, Rach..", Quinn offered her a small sympathetic smile. "But you've not seen him since his visit here. And back then we were still together. I want you to..I want you to weigh things. If you…", the blond squeezed the other girl's hand for comfort. "If you come back here and _still_ fully convinced that it's me and not Finn, then we can start figuring out _if_ we're good for each other."

"Quinn.."

"Let's be honest here for a second, Rach", the blonde chuckled sadly, "this relationship brought out the worst in us."

"It also brought out the best in us", Rachel frowned.

"Yes, but, we can't live in extremes. No relationship ever lasted that way."

The diva nodded. She can't argue with that. "You'd choose me over Emily?"

Quinn sighed. Out of all the things she said. "Yes. It's not about her. This is about us."

Rachel leaned closer but Quinn pulled away. "I…don't think that's a good idea, Rach", the blonde chuckled. "This really won't work if you constantly do things that make me want to do ungodly things to you."

Rachel's eyebrows arched. "Like?"

"Like…things that I will not talk to you about right now."

The brunette sighed then pouted. "Just one thing. We _never_ talked about that. So since this is honest hour…"

"No", Quinn laughed. "We're not talking about those things."

"Okay, _fine._" Rachel complied.

"Good."

"…Would it involve whips and chains?"

If it was possible for Quinn's eyes to fall out of their sockets, that would have happened already. "N-no, shut up, Rachel!"

"I'm kidding!", Rachel giggled. "Just kidding."

"Whatever", Quinn mumbled then stood up.

"Hey", the brunette reached for the other girl's hand. "Where are you going?"

"To the floor."

Rachel gave her a knowing smile.

"To help you wrap gifts, Rachel."

"Oh", the diva jutted her lower lip and nodded several times. "That's right."

Quinn left the apartment feeling good about things. She thought she handled it pretty well. _They _handled it well. The two spent the remaining hours wrapping gifts and talking about Quinn's anger management classes. Rachel still can't believe that the blonde had taken that step together with counseling on her own. She never had the illusion that Quinn was naturally kind-hearted; but the blonde's innate intelligence curbed her slight malevolence most of the time. The problem lies when her judgment is clouded by anger or jealousy, and that's exactly what Quinn said her therapist and classes were trying to address. It felt so good for them to be this open with each other.

Quinn gave Diego a salute then left the building. She suddenly stopped on her tracks as soon as she recognized Kieran walking towards her. Kieran grinned, "Quinn! I haven't seen—OW! My shirt! What the—"

He grimaced then recoiled after the blonde collared him. "Listen here, buddy. I don't know what your intentions are with Rachel—"

"Woah, woah, Quinn!" the boy raised his hands in surrender. "Unless Rachel has the hardware I like, there's no reason to release your inner Buffy on me."

The blonde stepped back and loosened her grip. "You..you're gay?"

"As spandex."

"Huh"

"We have a play for one of our classes. Rachel and I are the leads. We rehearse. That's all, I swear."

Quinn finally released him then straightened his shirt. "Well, good luck with that play." She patted his shoulder and took another step back which gave him space to run away from her.

Quinn quirked her eyebrows at a chuckling Peruvian who simply stood there and watched the scene unfold. Yeah, she handled it pretty well.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: gaah, I don't know what Emily has done to deserve your love, but I'm not complaining. There would be more of her, so don't worry. THANK YOU once again for your time and input.**


	17. Chapter 17

_And all that I've seen means nothing to me_

_Without you_

_-Half Light_

Quinn had somehow pictured the scene from Love Actually. You know, when Hugh Grant's sexy voice was narrating things about Christmas, September 11 and love while showing moments of reunions in Heathrow Airport and all that emotional crap? Yeah. That one. She expected that. But Emily simply took fast strides from the baggage pick up to customs and before Quinn knew it, they were hailing a cab. No welcome hugs from relatives or friends waiting at the arrival section. Quinn stood still and tried to reorient herself with the right hand-left hand difference of American and UK when Emily poked her head out of the cab, "Hey, get in. We haven't got all day", the brunette laughed. The younger girl grinned and faintly blushed as she was caught with her mouth open and brows furrowed while her eyes where darting everywhere.

"Where to miss?"

"Langham Hotel", Emily said casually as she picked up her phone and wallet. Quinn immediately took out her Lonely Planet Guide to England and searched for the hotel. Holy mother of everything good and true. The blonde's eyes widened then twitched while staring at the photo of a 19th century Victorian building that became temporary homes to Oscar Wilde, Mark Twain and Charles de Gaulle. She's staying in a freaking historic five-star hotel. For free. Emily studied Quinn for a moment while waiting for her father to pick up the call. There was something really adorable about Quinn's wide-eyed naivety— when she thinks she's not being observed— that made her want to keep the blonde, feed her and carry in her pocket. "Hoo ye gannin, Da? …Aye, champion. …. Aye Da, I love me some kidney pie, but …Aye, sir. Ye she's a bonny… Is the witch hyem?"

The blonde looked up and eyed the brunette with curiosity. They've only set foot in English soil for less than a couple of hours and Emily seemed to have transformed into an entirely different person. For one, her accent is in full swing (When Emily tapped her shoulder and told her to look at a particular building, it sounded more like booldin than anything else) but more importantly, she seemed to be speaking an entirely different language. The truth was, Quinn was just lucky that night she met Emily. She had no idea how to distinguish English regional accents. Mentioning Newcastle-upon-Tyne made her sound intelligent; so she went for it. Call it kismet if you want.

Emily was the model of coolth, so at that moment when there was a hint of tenderness and warmth in Emily's voice, everything was foreign to Quinn. She couldn't decide if she liked this side of the older woman better. She had always regarded the woman from a distance. That was easier. Quinn supposed that being home made the brunette more…human without even realizing it.

"Quinn". Emily pulled her lower lip between her teeth and squinted. "Why are you staring at me?'

"Oh. Uh, nothing. Just..trying to figure out if you're speaking Martian.", the blonde mumbled and shifted awkwardly.

The cab driver stifled a laugh then apologized. Emily glanced at the man and smiled. "From the other side of the pond, sir."

"Ah", the cab driver grinned. "Welcome to England, miss"

"Thanks", she responded shyly.

Emily and the cab driver ended up having a friendly conversation while on the way to the hotel. God, this woman is a walking PR. She knows how to make people comfortable, find a common interest and let them fall into a sense of familiarity in five minutes flat.

When they were near the hotel, Emily shoved some money into Quinn's hand and told her to pay the cab while she checked them in. Before the man went back to his car after placing their luggage on the porter's trolley, the driver adjusted his cap and gave a sympathetic look to the blonde, "to be fair, no one really understands the way they talk. Good luck and have a great Christmas." That earned him an extra shilling from Quinn on top of Emily's already generous tip.

Quinn stood next to Emily at the hotel reception and impatiently tapped her fingers on the counter. "Quinn, stop that."

"Stop what?"

"That. That tapping thing you're doing."

"I want to smoke."

"Then step outside and smoke."

"It's too cold."

"Then wait till we get to our room."

"And that's why I'm tapping my fingers. Why's is taking so long?"

"We haven't been here for less than fifteen—Damon, how are you?" Emily smiled widely and hugged a very smooth looking, clean-cut man. "Em! Good God, how long has it been?"

"Quite awhile" She nodded then turned around. "Damon, I'd like you to meet Quinn Fabray. Quinn, this is Damon Paxton, the Marketing Communications Manager of Langham and an old classmate at Cobham."

"Colleagues?", Damon asked while shaking Quinn's hand.

"Something like that", Emily interjected. Quinn raised a questioning brow but Emily gave her a "later" expression.

"I appreciate you arranging our accommodation. I know it's crazy around here at this time."

Damon chuckled. "It's not a problem, Em. Just glad to see you're back home. Had enough of the world?"

"No, not really. Just making a pit-stop for the holidays."

"Ah", he nodded. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'll try to join you guys later for lunch. Quinn. Nice meeting you."

"What was that all about?", the blonde asked as they make their way to the elevator.

"Damon is the sweetest guy you'll ever meet. But also the biggest gossip. I wouldn't want him to interrogating you all day. And we are _not_ joining him for lunch."

"Duly noted."

Quinn was already stressed out upon realizing they never talked about sleeping arrangements. She was hell bent in controlling herself with Emily but sleeping in one bed won't help her convictions. She's Quinn Fabray, not Jesus Christ. She furrowed her brows—she seemed to be doing that a lot, lately—and…"holy crap..", Quinn gasped at the sight of the suite which consisted of two bedrooms and a separate living room.

"Suites are the only ones left available. Everything else is booked.", the brunette explained as she removed her coat and boots. Quinn looked at her guiltily. "I'm sorry it took me awhile to decide."

"Nonsense. Even if I hadn't thought of including you, I probably would have ended up here. It's the season. So don't fret about it."

"So you don't have a place in London?", Quinn asked in a muffled voice as she scrutinized one of the two marble bathrooms then turned on the exhaust so she can smoke.

"No, never. I used to own one in Surrey." The brunette followed her inside, closed the door and sat at the edge of the bathtub. Lighting her own stick, she continued, "I sold it when I left for New York."

"Em, can I ask you something very personal?"

"Sure. I just can't promise I'll answer.", the older woman chuckled.

"How is it, that you can afford a Park Avenue apartment, pay for this room, while being a full-time student?"

"Well, I think I answered that question. I sold my home before I left. I use that money."

"Okay, but I assume your place in Surrey was, well, pricey if you can sustain this lifestyle. So how did you.." Quinn felt embarrassed for asking those questions, however, the thought always lingered in her mind and she had to get it out of her system.

"Ah", Emily nodded and smiled. "Granda's favorite. Inheritance money."

"You're everyone's favorite, aren't you?"

"Something like that", the brunette shrugged.

"I used to be", Quinn chewed her lip. "Everyone's favorite. When I reached high school, I mean. I made everyone proud."

"Grade school?"

"Invisible"

"So what caused the 180 degree turn?"

"I became…pretty and head cheerleader. Among other things."

"And the remaining 180?"

"I got pregnant", the blonde muttered then looked at Emily.

"Oh.", the older woman's lips twitched upwards. "Where is he? She?"

"She…Beth..she was adopted by Rachel's biological mother."

It was the first time Quinn saw Emily's face contort comically. "Come again?"

"Rachel's—"

"Rachel, as in Rachel Berry, your ex-fiancee Rachel?", Emily asked, dragging every word clearly as possible.

Quinn pursed her lip and nodded with every word. "The one and only."

"So Rachel herself was adopted."

"Yeah, her fathers—"

"Fathers. Oh this gets better." The British woman's mouth gaped amusedly, rested her arms on her thighs and hunched over. "Okay, one more time. Rachel was adopted by a gay couple from a woman who eventually adopted your child", she clarified with her pointer finger jumping from one invisible point to another.

"Correct", the blonde nodded slowly several times.

"And you and Rachel dated."

"Yes."

"Which means you got engaged to a girl who is—in a way— your daughter's sister."

"Well, if you put it that way.."

"You live an interesting life, Quinn Fabray", Emily shook her head in amazement. "You're just giving me the tip of the iceberg, aren't you?", the brunette followed up when Quinn smiled coyly. "So who's the father?"

"My then boyfriend's best friend."

Emily guffawed and clapped her hands. "This is absolutely priceless. Quinn! God. You make me look so tame!"

"Hey! I'm not a wild child."

"Oh, please. Who are you kidding? So who's the real Quinn Fabray? The immaculately clean cheer leader, the one who tied me up in bed or this petulant person standing in front of me? Or she's still hiding?"

Quinn took a long drag from her cigarette and thought about her answer. "I don't know. I guess I'm a little bit of everything. I don't know."

"I think you do", the British woman said with a meaningful expression while pointing a finger at the blonde girl. "I think you're scared of her."

Quinn gave her a soft smile. "I'm scared of a lot of things"

"You know what your problem is? You're such a control freak."

"There's nothing wrong with—"

"Oh, no, no, no. Just no. There's something fundamentally wrong with wanting to control everything, Quinn. Simply because you can't . And at a certain point, you would simply have to accept that."

"At what point did you?"

Maybe it was the early flight and the lack of sleep, but Quinn swore she saw Emily's eyes flash with melancholy. "That's for another time. Right now, I'm in the mood to act as tour guide and that doesn't happen often. "

"Evasive much?"

"I did say I will talk about it some other time. Quinn, I'm not like you. We just really have a tight schedule in London."

"Yeah, we're going to Newcastle after, right?"

"How did you know?"

"Phone, earlier."

"Ah", Emily smiled. "Yes, well, my father will disown me if I don't come home. But you're free to go explore somewhere else if you want and then we'll just meet up again here."

"Nah, I think I'll go with you. I'm very curious how you act in front of your family."

The older woman laughed. "Okay, if that's your thrill."

The next few days were indeed busy. Emily took hospitality seriously; they got around in a chauffeur-driven Jaguar courtesy of the hotel and went around exploring obligatory tourist attractions such as the Royal Albert Hall, Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abby. The next day was more of Quinn's liking, with Emily taking her to unusual spots like the Camden Catacombs and the Wallace Collection. They attended the SOAS function in the evening and as promised, Quinn was in academic nirvana—being able to meet some of the people she actually read left her dumbstruck.

Emily was dead tired. She never really liked playing host. So she got up from her bed and went to the living room with a glass and bottle of brandy in hand. She noticed a faint light coming from Quinn's room so she decided to invite Quinn for a drink. Before she could knock, she heard Quinn murmuring.

"So how's Lima?...Yeah I went to a lot of places…Yeah, it's very cold here…I miss you, too…no, it's alright. I couldn't sleep anyway. I'm glad you called, Rach…no…she's in the other room…yeah, separate rooms, separate beds, separate everything, stop being jealous…it's not cute on you…what's cute? It's cute when you crinkle your nose or when you bite your lip…Yeah, and your eyes. You know that…I told you we're not talking about that…because. Stop that…why are you taking sex advice from Santana? Don't listen to her…no, she's been celibate since they broke up, that's why…I'm serious, she's not slept with anyone since Britt, so she wouldn't know what she's talking about…yeah, tell her I said that. I'm not scared of her."

Emily pursed her lips and smiled. Another side of Quinn Fabray was currently talking to Rachel on the phone—The one that had an unguarded, affectionate tone and giggling at every other sentence. She made up her mind not to disturb the moment and tease Quinn about the conversation tomorrow morning instead.

"I do _not_ have a girlfriend voice." Quinn scowled. "What does that mean, anyway?"

"See, you're reacting and you don't even know what that means", the older woman laughed. Quinn wasn't in a good mood. She barely had any sleep. After an hour, they decided to end their conversation but not without Rachel dropping hints of her being naked under the covers. _That_ kept the blonde's mind working. So being made fun of by a smug-looking British woman about having a girlfriend voice at 6 in the morning was something Quinn didn't find acceptable.

"It doesn't sound good.", Quinn growled before taking a sip from her espresso.

"It simply means you have a particular tone used for your significant other. You were literally cooing. You don't talk that way to other people."

"Considering how annoying you are right now, being sweet with you is the furthest thing on my mind. I'm not even making an issue yet about eavesdropping."

"_Point_ is, you never used that on anyone else, except Rachel. Therefore, girlfriend voice."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"I say to-may-to, you say to-mah-to. Please, you're only deluding yourself into believing you're not in a relationship with her again. When was the last time we had sex?"

"Jesus, use a megaphone will you?", Quinn breathed out while surveying the breakfast buffet area.

"Nobody cares, Quinn. Answer my question."

"Since…well, ever since Rachel and I kissed at the auction."

"Have you kissed or had sex with anyone else?"

"No…"

"I call that being exclusive."

"So, Rach and I are exclusively dating."

"Whatever terminology you're comfortable in describing it, Quinn.", Emily ended, taking a bite from her bacon with a taunting smile. "I'd still say you have a girlfriend voice."

The train trip to Newcastle was relaxing. At least Quinn thought it was since she slept through the whole three hours. Newcastle had an extremely different vibe and felt oddly familiar with it. Maybe it reminded her of Lima. "That's our home", Emily pointed to a huge Victorian house. They didn't bother to go inside with Emily merely transferring their bags from the cab to a Range Rover. "We're not staying here, I'm driving us to Falstone. It should just take an hour or so."

"Why there?"

"Because my father's brilliant idea of holidays with the family is to rent a cottage without servants, and very little house space to avoid each other. Oh and sheep and nature galore so there's nowhere to run and hide."

"It's winter. Everything's frozen and white."

"So pretend we're in the Swiss Alps, hmm? Just the cheaper variety."

"I didn't bring anything for your family."

"So did I", Emily laughed. "That's alright, Quinn. Just, I don't know, charm them with your impeccable manners. Lord knows my parents will be impressed."

"But you have impeccable manners."

"You just wait and see", the brunette chuckled.

They arrived at a two-storey detached stone house surrounded by nothing but a lake and yeah, sheep. Lots of them. Like, if they decided to go and attack Quinn, she would certainly die. The fact that they can stealthily camouflage themselves with snow made it all the more disconcerting. It's a good thing they're nice. But she had seen enough episodes of Pets Gone Wild to have wisdom not to go near them. One of them kept eye contact with the blonde. Oh, you want a staring contest? Bring it on.

"EEEEEM! YA'AALREET?"

That voice certainly disturbed the sheep's peace and lost their contest. Quinn turned around and saw Emily being tackled on the snow-covered ground by a man that looked slightly older than her. Must be the brother. One of them. Emily mentioned once she had two older brothers and a younger sister.

"Yee are fucking evil, Duncan!", Emily screamed. "Ma! Duncan's trying te kill me!"

A tall and lean woman, perhaps in her early to mid-60s stepped outside and chastised Duncan. "You're going to give your sister pneumonia, get her up, Duncan", she said calmly while walking towards Quinn. "You must be Quinn. Come in, lass.", she smiled then ushered the blonde inside. "Let them die in the cold. Those two, always roughhousing. Some things don't change." Emily's mother, Elena, was grace personified and sounded (and looked) a lot like New York-mode Emily. Because the one wrestling her six-foot two brother certainly wasn't that Emily she knew.

Hot chocolate near the fireplace. This is the meaning of heaven. Elena absolutely knew how to pamper her. Quinn wanted to be adopted already. Until something tackled her head. A ragdoll. She heard a small giggle. Turning around, she saw a little girl about five years old standing a few steps behind her. "Hello there", the blonde grinned. "What's your name?"

"Lucie. It's with an I and an E. I _always_ need to say that because I get gifts that spell it with a Y. You know, like Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. But that's okay, I guess, because Daddy—the one Aunt Em is currently punching—loves the Beatles. How about you? What's your name?"

Quinn quirked her eyebrows. Why hello there, Rachel Berry Junior. "Quinn, my name's Quinn. But my full name is Lucy Quinn. With a Y."

"Oh, that makes us namesakes. But it's good that you use Quinn. We won't get confused."

Quinn nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Do you want hot chocolate?", she offered and pointed at the thermos on the table.

"Did grandma put marshmallows in it? I don't like it with marshmallows."

Quinn examined her mug. "Uh, I don't think so."

"Okay, I'll go get my mug then.", Lucie nodded then ran to the kitchen then sat next to Quinn and dutifully waited for the blonde to pour enough chocolate on her mug. "Thank you"

"How do you like it?"

"Grandma's hot chocolate is always good.", Lucie noted then stared at Quinn. "You have pretty eyes."

"You have beautiful eyes, too", the blonde grinned.

"But not as pretty as yours. It's got brown dots. Mine's plain denim blue"

"Just like your Aunt Emily"

With this, Lucie beamed. "Everyone says I look like her. I like that. She's _perfect._"

"Is she?"

"_Yes._ She gives me loads of gifts and always smiles and she dresses really nice" Well, someone's fangirling. It's nice to know it's not just her, Quinn thought as Lucie listed several more attributes she liked in Emily.

"Luce, baby, where did you— Oh, hi. You must be Quinn. Liz, Lucie's mum"

"Hi, nice to—"

"So my daughter's already bonded with you. Duncan here."

"Hel—"

"Oh, and Quinn, this is Ollie, our oldest brother, his wife Sadie and their three boys Zachary, Tobias and Jacob. Yes, they picked them all in the Bible. Still little monsters though."

"That's—"

"Quinn, this is our Da, Matthew"

"Good Mor—"

"Quinn Fabray, yeah? Is that a British surname?"

"It's I—"

"No, sounds Irish to me."

"Yes, my dad's fam—"

"Sadie, your son is drooling over Em's friend."

"Tobias, stop staring at Quinn, that's rude."

"Can I take Quinn to my room, mum?"

"Later sweet cheeks, we'll have lunch first"

"But I just had—"

"Alright, everyone. You're suffocating Quinn already. All of you, dining room. Now."

Finally. Saved by Elena. And where was Emily in all of this? Leaning against the fucking door, laughing quietly and mouthed "impeccable manners" at her.

She mouthed back an "I hate you" before heading to the dining room. Well, they were certainly a rowdy bunch, but Quinn was able to tune out the chaos because of two things; one is Elena's orgasmic beef stew and, two, Lucie sat next to her. They whispered to each other with Lucie complaining about not having a girl playmate in the family and Quinn promising to play with her later.

"I love my cousins. Especially Jacob. Jacob's really nice. But he refuses to play with my dolls. So instead, we dress up and pretend to be in Hogwarts."

"I'll play with you and your dolls later"

"Promise?"

"Promise"

The day went by quickly with Quinn cooped up in Lucie's room all afternoon. If it's possible to fall in love with someone else's kid that fast, the blonde would be the first to provide a testimonial that it could happen. They were in the middle of dressing up Barbie when they were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Quinn? Still alive?"

"Hey, Em", she chuckled. "Very much. Lucie and I are having a blast."

"That's good.", Emily grinned while hugging Lucie. "Well, we're going out in a few minutes to get some beer. Want to go?"

Lucie looked at her and shrugged. "You can go and have some fun with the adults, but please come back later."

"Are you calling me old, Luce?", Emily laughed.

The little girl giggled. "Maybe. But you're a fun old person."

"And Quinn's not old?"

"No", Lucie shook her head.

It was Quinn's turn to shrug.

"Well, I should get you out of here fast before you brainwash my niece completely." Emily kissed the top of Lucie's head. "I promise to bring back Quinn later."

They came back a few hours later right in time for dinner. It was the same chaos until they heard a car pull over. "Oh, here we go.", Emily drawled out.

"Em, do try and be patient.", Elena noted.

"Ma, I've always been—"

"Hello, everyone, sorry I'm late"

This must be the sister. Crap, what's her name again? Layla. There you go. She was Emily's exact opposite. Blonde, like their father, stern looking and had a roughness in her gaze.

There was a drop in temperature as soon as Layla's eyes met Emily's. "Oh. You're here."

"Happy Holidays to you, too, Lay", Emily chuckled then winked at a smirking Duncan whom in return was nudged by his wife.

Layla sat in front of Quinn, and those cold steely eyes made the former HBIC look down on her food. Ollie cleared his throat. "Layla, this is Quinn Fabray, Emily's friend."

"Friend, huh?", Layla smirked. "Emily's never brought home a _friend_ before. You must be special."

"That's because I avoid letting my friends know the defective side of my family.", Emily countered.

"Excuse me?"

"Alright, enough of this, yous. We'll have a nice dinner.", Matthew interjected.

"Kidney pie. How lovely. Em's favorite", Layla sneered. "I hate kidney pie. Of course, Da, Ma, you'd only consider Em's choice."

"I love kidney pie, too", Zachary mumbled then was effectively shushed by Sadie.

Layla was undeterred. In fact, Quinn felt she was on a roll. God, Santana would look like an angel next to this bitch. "Are you planning to drop by Dublin, Em? It's been years since Eoin spent Christmas with you."

It was a human table tennis. Similar to Quinn's earlier encounter but obviously a hundred times less friendly.

"Don't you bring my son—"

"Oh, you actually consider him your son. How enlightening for all of us."

"Lay, that's enough"

"Of course Duncan would come to your rescue. As expected."

"Hey, don't fight in front of us children"

"Zachary, lead your brothers and Lucie inside. Get your plates and finish your dinner in the living room. Now."

"Quinn, maybe you should go with them."

"No, Quinn stays. She's _my_ guest. It's not my fault someone can't check her rudeness out of the door."

"Is it too much for a father to ask for one Christmas without all of this?"

"Considering how unfair you have been, Da. Yes, it's too much."

"Me? Unfair?"

"Da, don't listen to her rubbish."

"It's not rubbish when we all have to work hard and live decent lives while your prodigal daughter comes and goes as she pleases, leave all responsibilities behind and _still_ be the apple of your eye. Do you know Ma's been suffering from highblood?"

"Ma? Is that true? Why haven't you told me?"

"Em, it's not a big deal."

"Of course Ma would say it's not a big deal. She knows you value your lifestyle more."

"Not that I need to defend my lifestyle, but—"

"Yes, let's talk about your lifestyle, Em. How about the fact that you've been constantly bringing shame to this family by having a child at such a young age then—"

"Then what, hmm? Say it, Lay. Say it to my face."

"I have _nothing_ against gay people, Emily. I have something against you dropping everything for—"

"Layla! Enough!"

That sure was forceful. Elena, once again saved the day. "If I hear another word from _any _of you"

Finally. Détente.

Quinn wanted to go home. Badly. Like take a flight back to Lima and hug her mom. Take a flight back to Lima and tell her father she loved him. She had it good. Really good.

"So, Em.", Ollie spoke in a low and soft voice while drying the plates. "Quinn, huh."

The blonde's ear perked up as she was about to enter the kitchen for a glass of water. Her turn to eavesdrop. It was little over ten and the ceasefire was sustained the whole night filling the house with eerie silence.

"What about her?"

"Newest plaything?"

"She's a lot more than that, Ollie."

The man's eyebrows shot up.

"A little less than that", Emily chuckled.

"So, what, you're.."

"Friends. We're friends."

"Shame. She makes a nice addition to our family. I saw her sneak a scary glare at Layla when she thought no one was looking. I swear, Lay recoiled."

When everyone had retired in their respective rooms, Quinn and Emily stayed in the den drinking beer. Emily felt the need to explain certain things. As to why her mother reacted at a very specific point.

"I was a couple of years older than you. My girlfriend died. Cervical cancer."

There was complete silence for a few minutes until Quinn slowly sat down on the floor and hugged her knees. "H-how old was she.."

"She was 27. It went by so fast. I don't think I even had time to process reality before she was gone."

Quinn calculated the intervals. "So after that, you became a UN volunteer."

Emily nodded as she took a drag. "Yes, I thought, well fuck it. If I'm going to die, I won't die because of some stupid cancer. I would rather be remembered as someone who got killed in crossfire or whatever."

"That's an awful way of remembering how she suffered."

"Evie.", the older woman mumbled.

"Evie", Quinn repeated.

"I was angry at her. Angry for not getting a work up. She hated hospitals and avoided any form of procedures that invade her body.", she chuckled sadly. "I kept thinking if just once. Just once. She listened to me, maybe that would have been..", Emily ended with a sigh.

"What made you change your perspective?"

"Because I got tired of getting angry. Because I realized Evie would have killed me if she knew I was moping around. And mostly because being exposed to poverty and strife made me recognize that I was too damn self-absorbed."

"You still love her?"

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving her."

"Is that..is that why you're just casual with me?"

Emily chuckled. "No"

"Oh. Okay."

"Why? Do you want us to be committed?"

"Uhm, no."

"Thought so. I don't want that, either."

"I know. But why?"

"Don't take this personally, okay?"

"Okay"

"You take yourself…too seriously. You think too much and carry the whole world upon your shoulders."

"How can I _not_ take that personally?"

"Because it simply means you're not my type. Rachel probably thinks that's a major turn on. But not me."

"You had sex with me."

"You're gorgeous. Any person with a pulse would be willing to be in my place. But you _aren't_ my type. I wouldn't think of dating you."

"So, why did you give me your card?"

"Because you were fun that night. I actually thought your sober self would only be _slightly_ different. I was wrong."

"I'm really getting offended by this."

Emily laughed. "No, really. You're not bad. It's just really not the personality I would want to wake up to every morning."

Quinn nodded. That, she understood. She felt oddly relieved to find some clarity in her relationship with Emily.

"Look, Quinn. I was you years ago. Maybe that's why despite my lack of emotional attraction, I decided to keep hanging around. You remind me of myself. Slightly cuter, but yes, very much the same. What I'm trying to say is. Don't wait until it's too late to make that turn to the right. Girls like us, we carry a lot of baggage. And I realized, it's so damn ugly", she laughed dryly. "It makes us so damn ugly and unattractive."

Quinn sat in silence and tried to absorb every word.

"Forget about Rachel for a moment, Quinn. I know she's what fills up your mind. Think about yourself right now. You want to be good to her? Be good to yourself first. Drop your baggage, one by one. Lighten up your load, so when she needs you to carry hers, you'd be able to. You can't expect her to love you when you never really loved her."

"I did."

"No, you were attached to her. Figure out what love really means first."

**A/N: Next stop—Lima**

**You are all so kind. Thank you once again for the comments and reviews. **


	18. Chapter 18

_But there was always something different_

_In the way she held a stare_

_And the pictures that she painted_

_Were of glamour and of flair_

_And her boyfriend though he loved her_

_Knew he couldn't quite fulfill_

_He could never meet her there_

-_Queen of Hollywood_

There are two ways to represent small towns: a place where people want to run away from, or a place that gives birth and nurtures dreams; a place to look back to in nostalgia. Rachel chose to see Lima from the latter perspective. For every hateful word or deed thrown her way, she took that as positive energy that fueled her dream and got her ready for blast off. She had a tendency to be one-track minded and it helped her most of the time since Lima didn't exactly give her a lot of choices when she lived here. McKinley was, in particular, very limiting. It didn't give her enough leeway to choose friends, image and reputation. Quinn was very much a major factor in this and had always tried to find ways to show remorse. The diva realized however, that even up to her return to Lima, there is a part of her that harbored a fundamental disbelief that someone like Quinn actually made that transition from hatred to love directed at her. Sure, it's the stuff that movies are made off. She had seen A Walk to Remember several times to know that it _could_ happen. But not to her. Because she's Rachel Berry. No one just trips and suddenly find themselves falling in love with her. It just didn't happen.

She had asked Quinn several times in the past why , how, and when did she fall in love to the point of exasperation. She reckoned it was frustrating for the blonde because Quinn knew she wanted specifics but her former tormentor could only give a broad-spectrum of the changeover with regard to her feelings.

"_Quinn? Are you awake?"_

_The blonde moaned lowly and stirred before huskily answering, "I am now.."_

"_Sorry.." Rachel mumbled with a smile. _

"_Something wrong?" Quinn asked with one eye opened as she had turned to face Rachel. _

_The diva shook her head. "Just…I can't sleep"_

"_So you decide…to…wake me up", the blonde said in between yawns. _

"_Yes"_

"_Amazing logic, sweetheart.", Quinn whispered with her eyes closed and brows furrowed. _

_The brunette snaked her hand over Quinn's ribcage area and gently stroked the underside of the blonde's left breast causing the sleepy girl to giggle. "You're really determined to keep me up, aren't you?"_

"_uh hmm"_

"_Okay, okay" The blonde's eyes fluttered open. "Not sleeping anymore. What's on your mind?"_

"_What made you fall in love with me?"_

_Quinn blinked several times. "That's what keeping you up?"_

_Rachel nodded. "I've been trying to figure out the timeline."_

"_Honey, don't compare me to those Evolution of Man posters that show how we started from apes to homo sapien sapien."_

_This made the diva break into fits of laughter. _

"_What?", Quinn playfully growled. "You wake me up then laugh at me. You're doing this all wrong."_

"_No, I'm sorry. It's just..", Rachel buried her face on Quinn's chest and continued laughing. "I mean…you…I kind of imagined you in those posters. It's..oh god"_

_The blonde rolled her eyes then poked her girlfriend's side. "Stop thinking about it then."_

"_I can't!", Rachel giggled then breathed deeply and hummed. "Okay.."_

"_Okay"_

_Quinn huffed as soon as the brunette started giggling again. "Rachel.."_

"_No, it's different now."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Now I'm laughing at the how you're able to insert your geekiness into our conversation. Homo sapien sapien.. what's the other one?"_

"_Homo sapien neandertales.." Quinn said without batting an eyelash. She then glared at Rachel before kissed the tip of Rachel's nose. "You. Are. Making. Fun. Of. Me.", she said in between kisses. _

_Rachel closed her eyes and smiled while letting the blonde place angel kisses all over her face. "Am not. I think the fact that you're geeky makes you so sexy."_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Definitely". Rachel opened her eyes wide. "Which. Brings us back to my query."_

"_How?"_

"_You're extremely beautiful", Rachel lifted a finger to stop Quinn from reacting. "You were captain of Cheerios, and even in your so-called fall from grace, that never stopped people from wanting to be you or be with you. You're very intelligent, and sophisticated. And sexy. I already mentioned that earlier, but it bears repeating."_

"_Done kissing my ass?", Quinn chuckled._

"_Point is, I don't get it, Quinn."_

"_Get why out of everyone who wanted to be with me or be me, it's you I wanted to be with?"_

"_Yeah", the diva said in a small voice. _

"_I can't really—I mean", Quinn puffed her cheeks. ""There really isn't a so-called timeline, Rach. I guess it's safe to say that I've always been attracted to you. We were at puberty, and of course I couldn't process exactly what that attraction meant. I obviously took it and expressed it negatively because of several mitigating factors..", she paused then breathed deeply. "but it's like..I couldn't get myself from staying away from you. I didn't have to make your life miserable, but I did."_

_Rachel started to trace patterns on Quinn's belly and simply nodded in response. _

"_I don't know..I guess it's..everything you've done for me. You were kind, charitable and understanding. Everything that I'm not."_

"_I wasn't all that good to you."_

"_No..no you weren't. But ultimately you always took the higher ground. You reached out for me. Not to take away what Mercedes did for me or everyone else. I'm thankful for everything they've done. Just that no one's ever been so consistent in caring for me. Except you"_

"_I was annoyingly persistent, huh?"_

"_Yeah", the blonde chuckled. "So, I can't really say there was one specific thing you did that made me fall in love with you. But okay, I'll give you this much. I can tell you what specific thing you did that made me stop and think about my feelings for you."_

_Rachel rested her chin on the blonde's chest and smiled widely. "Yeah? When?"_

"_Regionals", Quinn nodded pensively. "When you stopped me from ratting out Shelby and Puck."_

"_Is that why you decided to become friends with me after?"_

"_Yeah..you could say that. I mean, when I realized that I was in love with you, it was also the bleakest moment of my life. I thought—no, I was certain—a "you and me" won't ever happen."_

"_So you were willing to settle for friendship."_

"_Nothing about being friends with you that screamed settling. It was a gift in itself. But my realization did make me decide to change how I treat you. I knew it was my turn to reach out. No matter how weird my methods were."_

_Rachel chewed her lower lip. "Mmm..okay."_

_The blonde arched her eyebrow. "That's it?"_

"_Yes, that's it."_

"_You're satisfied?"_

"_I am."_

"_Can we go back to sleep now?"_

_Rachel shook her head._

"_No?"_

"_No" The brunette smiled deviously then rolled on top of Quinn. _

Her fathers looked at each other and communicated silently on the way back to their home. They were surprised, to say the least, that their daughter went home without Quinn. The two men knew immediately something was terribly wrong to see Rachel without Quinn attached to her hip. The scene just looked so…incomplete. There was silence inside the car with the brunette staring blankly through her window.

"Rachel, is everything alright?" It was Hiram that first broke the stillness.

The diva slowly turned to face the front. "Yes, why?"

"Oh, I don't know. Call it paternal instinct. Or maybe the fact that you haven't said a single thing since we left the airport or the more glaring fact that Quinn's not with you."

Rachel opened then closed her mouth several times unable to find the most diplomatic way of saying things. "Quinn and I…we broke up."

LeRoy glanced through the rearview window but chose to remain silent and keep driving.

"What did she do?", Hiram asked.

The brunette glared at her father. "Why do you automatically assume it was her fault?"

LeRoy rolled his eyes at Hiram. He had always been sympathetic to Quinn causing him some heated arguments with his husband. As time went by, Hiram had softened his stance. But seeing his precious baby looking forlorn may not help Quinn's case.

"No, of course not honey..I just—"

"It _wasn't _her fault.", Rachel huffed.

"When?", LeRoy finally spoke.

"September"

LeRoy swerved then pulled over the side. "September?", both men exclaimed at the same time.

"Yes", Rachel said with wide eyes. "Why? Is there something special that month I should've known about?"

"Well, no sweetheart. Just…it's been that long and you made no mention of it?"

"I..well, we've been trying to fix things since then. I'm actually very hopeful we'll get through this. I do intend to marry Quinn"

Hiram looked at LeRoy. "I thought that Facebook relationship status was just nonsense."

"Why would think that?" LeRoy sneered at Hiram.

"Well, have you seen engagement rings?"

"We were just about to…", Rachel sighed. "She was having a Claddagh ring made for me", she sniffled as her lips quivered. "Anyway", the diva breathed deeply, then wiped her eyes. "I'm very confident we'll work on things", she nodded emphatically.

The two men nodded simultaneously. "I'm sure you will, honey", LeRoy said and offered a warm smile.

Rachel pursed her lips in return. She missed Quinn. They haven't seen each other for almost a month, not since they agreed for Rachel to come home to Lima alone and it's been driving her crazy. It's one thing to not see Quinn because they have just broken up and things were very uncertain. It's another thing to know they _can_ see each other but choose not to. She'll probably end up calling the blonde later. Yeah, she will. Definitely.

It's going to be hard explaining their situation to people. Everyone will be asking about Quinn and why she chose to spend Christmas in England. Alone (because there's no way in hell Rachel will tell anyone Quinn is with a gorgeous brunette). So yeah, there's no escaping the inevitable.

What stresses her out the most is of course, Finn. The brunette won't deliberately seek her out, ask questions and do a SWOT analysis later on.

On second thought, maybe she would list down Finn and Quinn's respective strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats. That could be helpful.

She actually had no idea how to go about this supposed process of figuring out her feelings for Finn. Quinn gave her the go signal to explore things with the boy, but to what extent, what it really means, her ex-girlfriend didn't say. More importantly, Rachel knew she would not be prepared for whatever answers she will come up with later on.

First order of the day was further explaining what happened to her fathers. A root canal would have been more preferable right at that moment. Recounting events is just plain masochistic. She was also pretty sure that she would get a good tongue lashing from LeRoy and a disappointed gaze from Hiram. After all, while the latter didn't particularly liked Quinn, he would zero in on the fact that she had deliberately deceived the blonde in so many instances.

Her only defense is that she never meant Quinn harm. And for what it's worth, except when they fight, Rachel genuinely enjoyed the blonde's company. The blonde balanced her out. While she was excitable, Quinn was more guarded. She talked a lot, while Quinn liked to listen. And she _knew_ the blonde listened, not simply zone her out and pretend to. It was always the same; Quinn would drop whatever she was doing (except if she was in the middle of frying something. That's a no talk moment), paid attention, and if needed, gave her opinion. Quinn had a short fuse while she was more even-tempered (not that much, but still better than the blonde's). They're not polar opposites, but she likened it more to yin and yang; one that produced harmony rather than friction most of the time. After all, they wouldn't have lasted that long if there wasn't some form of convergence in thoughts and emotions.

And it's not even about the huge things. It's the little stuff that made her very fond of Quinn. Gestures like Quinn always shifting to the ride side whenever they cross the street or waiting for her in NYADA at late hours when she had rehearsals just so she won't commute alone. She always made Rachel feel safer.

Quinn, whether conscious about it or not, was also charmer. Since they arrived in New York and started school, they had unwittingly created a tradition—Knick-knack Fridays. It started when the blonde coming home from a charity bazaar held in front of Baruch and got her an Eiffel Tower keychain. The next weekend, Rachel decided to take a different route back home and stumbled upon a store filled with unusual and quirky items. She picked up a small tin can for mints with the words "Mint to be" printed on it and gave it to Quinn. The rest was history. It was an unbroken custom –lovers' quarrel or not—until, of course, they had broken up.

It therefore defied logic that Finn would still be a huge part of her. She tried. She knew it was unhealthy to keep Finn in her thoughts. She can't really find any explanation except isolating that moment Finn broke up with her because of her choice to spend all her time with Quinn. She wanted to get mad at the blonde, and tried to several times, but harboring ill-feelings directed at Quinn won't mask the truth that she didn't have anything to do with the break up. Within the first few months of the accident, she tried hard for Quinn to open up her feelings to no avail. Quinn never asked her to choose. She had even voiced concern over the escalating fights between Rachel and Finn but the brunette always brushed it aside. She wanted to get mad at Finn as well but she saw the boy's situation clearly and with sympathy. They didn't cancel the wedding because one wanted to back out. Both were clearly adamant in getting married. It was definitely unfair to have left Finn hanging without so much as an ounce of explanation. They went from loving couple to nothing without an actual third party or any other strong circumstance that could justify the sudden change.

Finn actually didn't know about her relationship with Quinn until days before their departure to New York. They had really kept a low-profile that only Santana and Kurt were aware about it. For some reason, Rachel felt like coming clean to her former fiancée and as expected Finn didn't take it well. The mixture of hurt and confusion in his face was something Rachel found hard to forget. It took some time for the boy to process the information because, first, she's found someone else a few months after their break up, second, the other person is somebody he knew and used to date, and third, he had a really hard time absorbing the fact that Quinn turned out to be gay. Or bisexual. Quinn never really clarified that. It was _really_ awkward when Finn asked if she was with Quinn out of pity or guilt.

It was bad enough that Quinn's accident cancelled their wedding. It was worse that their whole relationship crumbled because of that incident. Worst that the same person was leaving with Rachel to New York and live the life she had planned with Finn.

It all started and ended with Rachel's decision to be with Quinn and she reckoned it had to end with hers.

She didn't quite expect that her first encounter again with Finn would be in a grocery literally bumping into each other.

"_Oh, hey, Rachel!", the tall boy exclaimed then gave the brunette a hug. "Merry Christmas!...Or is it Happy Hannukah?" _

_Rachel chuckled. "Can be both. You could always say Happy Holidays, just to be safe."_

_Finn gave her a lopsided smile. "That's true, I'll keep that in mind."_

"_So, how have you been?"_

"_Great. I'm doing great.", he said while pushing his cart next to Rachel's. "I took your advice. You know, about taking that part time job at that real estate company. You're right. My boss actually thinks I have a future in sales."_

"_Oh, really?", the brunette grinned. "You've sold houses?"_

"_Just one so far. I mean, it's not a huge thing or anything, but considering I was just shadowing my boss but I was able to convince the buyers? It was pretty cool. I'm thinking of taking the Realtor's exam. So with my future business management degree and that..I could do something good with it later on.", Finn said in a rather excited tone. It was unusual for the boy to be this talkative and be very specific about his plans in life. _

"_What about Burt's garage?"_

"_Oh, I still help. Like, right now, when I'm off school. How about you? Where's Quinn?"_

_Rachel cleared her throat. "We've hit a rough patch in our relationship…we're sort of on a break"_

_Finn placed some cans on the cashier counter then turned around slowly. "Oh. Like a three-year itch."_

"_I think that would seven, Finn", Rachel laughed sweetly. _

"_Well…you're not yet married. So, could be shorter", the boy shrugged then grinned before paying._

_Rachel smiled. "Yes, you could be right."_

"_I wouldn't worry too much about it, Rach", Finn nodded serenely as he waited for the girl to check out. "Quinn cares about you deeply."_

"_She does.", the brunette agreed. _

"_Here..let me carry those for you", Finn offered then took the bags from Rachel. "But is she in town?"_

"_No..", the diva mumbled. "She's in England."_

"_That's a lot of space she's giving you.", the tall boy noted with raised eyebrow. _

_Rachel offered him a sad smile. "We'll probably see each other before New Year's Eve. Or..I don't know."_

_Finn sighed. "It's always hard to celebrate holidays after a break-up."_

"_We're not…I mean, we're on a break. That's different."_

"_No, I was talking about myself, Rach", Finn laughed. _

"_Oh", Rachel stopped walking and turned to face him. "What happened? Adrianne, right?"_

_Finn pressed his lips together and nodded. "Yeah. Well, nothing dramatic or anything. You know she's a couple of years older than me. And she got offered a job west coast. So, we decided to end things now. She wasn't keen to try a long-distance relationship."_

"_I'm sorry to hear that."_

_Finn shrugged. "Thanks, but other than being bitten by the Christmas bug, I'm alright. So, anyway. Are you going to the Glee dinner, tomorrow? Mr. Schue's pretty excited about it."_

_Rachel grinned and nodded. "Yes, I most definitely will be there."_

It was the usual Glee dinner, sans Quinn, Santana and Brittany (S flew to California, as expected), recalling events in the past and updates about the present. Rachel took careful steps in avoiding alcoholic beverages especially because she had been inseparable with Finn since they bumped into each other at the grocery. There was a hushed silence the moment they entered the venue, discomfited hellos and of course, "where's Quinn?".

Some gave knowing looks after finding out about the girls' situation and it left the brunette feeling more confused. Other than that, it was a good night. Until Finn kissed her at her fathers' patio and she kissed him back. She mentally cursed herself because she had no excuse. It would have been better had she been inebriated, at least she could always blame the alcohol.

But Quinn told her to explore her feelings.

That's what kept her from pulling away.

It was Finn who finally took the step. "Rach?", he whispered.

Rachel looked up and stared into his eyes. "Do you want to come in? My fathers won't be home until tomorrow noon."

It was both a painful and ecstatic moment for Rachel. She cried silently when it was over and Finn snoring softly to her side. She had to leave the room and sob inside her fathers' bathroom when she read Quinn's text: _Hope you're having a good time. I miss you. _

She looked at the clock. It was still early. There was only a five-hour difference between Ohio and London. She took a deep breath and called Quinn.

"Hey…Lima's okay, the usual. So did you get to explore? How cold is it there?...I miss you, Quinn", she whispered then bit her lip until she felt pain. "I know you said we needed space, but I needed to hear your voice…Is Emily with you?...Oh? You have separate beds?...Fine, okay, I'll stop being jealous…really? So what's cute on me?...Is that so?...What about my legs?...No, well Santana told me…You did not just reveal that…I'm telling Santana…Oh, yeah?"

She felt dirty . Flirting like that with Quinn while Finn was on the other room. She had no idea what's egging her to do these things. She kept repeating in her head that Quinn gave her a free pass. The blonde was with Emily in England and God only knows what they've been doing. She had the right to open herself up (no pun intended) to Finn. She wasn't cheating. No one was.

It would be alright.

Quinn would understand.

**A/N: I intentionally made this chapter a lot shorter than the last one, because I do intend to make Rachel fill in the gaps for Quinn upon their return to New York. **

**A/N2: You have been warned. I am going to prolong your agony a bit more. It helps me deal with crap known as Glee Season 3. **

_._


	19. Chapter 19

_No I ain't scared of lightning_

_It's the same old empty threat_

_I've been standing proud_

_Beneath the gathering cloud_

_And man_

_I ain't dead yet_

_-I Ain't Scared of Lightning_

"Quinn.."

Quinn quickly took her top off and straddled the brunette, desperately nipping at every surface exposed to her. "I want you.", she mumbled with desperation in her voice.

"Quinn", the brunette said more forcefully.

"Shh.." The blonde hushed then rocked her hips against the other girl.

Emily sighed before she gently held Quinn's wrists to pry herself free. "Stop this. What's wrong?"

Quinn stared into the woman's lips and shook her head. "Nothing", she whispered with the corner of her lips quirked upwards. "Nothing's wrong. I just want you.", Quinn purred against the older woman's ear.

Emily dodged Quinn's kiss and chuckled dryly. "I don't think so."

This offended the blonde girl. "What? You don't want me anymore?", she mumbled with a clearly wounded tone.

"Quinn, that's not.."

"Fine." Quinn clenched her teeth then rolled of Emily's body, angrily grabbing her shirt from the floor.

"Quinn, don't be like this"

"Like what?",Quinn finally broke. "Like someone who wants to feel wanted? Huh? Not all of us can be one with the world and be numb like you, Emily!"

"I'm going to ignore that and be really understanding right now. You're obviously seething about something. I'm going to make us tea and hopefully by the time I come back, you have calmed yourself down."

Emily took her time inside the kitchen and allowed the younger girl to put her shirt on. A half-naked Quinn on top of her is hard to resist. Any other day, she wouldn't have given a rat's ass and jumped into bed with the blonde. But she knew something was terribly wrong when Quinn stormed into her apartment in running clothes at 3 A.M with bloodshot eyes. She may be a lot of things but she didn't take advantage of obviously emotionally distraught people.

Emily paused and surveyed Quinn's dishevelled state upon returning. "Why don't you grab some clean clothes in my armoire? Sleep clothes, right, second drawer"

"Okay." Quinn mumbled then walked towards the brunette's room in an almost robotic manner, grabbing the first on top of Emily's sleepwear. She lazily sauntered back to the living room after changing then washing her face. Nobody spoke for several minutes, with subtle sounds occasionally coming from the china tea set. "If you need to sleep, you can use the other room", Emily finally said with a small smile.

"Can't I stay with you?", Quinn asked softly.

Emily twisted her lips and gave herself some moment to make a decision. "Alright", she nodded." But don't take my side this time", she warned playfully.

Quinn sighed. Emily's side is also _her_ side.

And the only reason why she was able to sleep that night was from pure exhaustion— fatigue from the hours of running she did and from what happened before that. In that moment, Quinn allowed herself to surrender in Emily's arms as she was held tightly, and make the most of the warmth that another body provided.

She woke up disoriented and immediately felt her leg muscles contract in pain. This is her punishment for not religiously running anymore. She groaned then forced herself to get up. She needed to apologize to Emily for her behavior last night. Well, from a distance. Because Emily, that moment, was waging war in the kitchen.

So, the woman can't cook and was living on the edge by burning eggs.

"You have _no_ idea how good it feels to know you have a serious flaw", Quinn grinned as she smugly seized the spatula from the older woman and took over.

"Not so much as _my_ flaw as it is my upbringing's", the older woman grumbled while she sat down at the other side of the kitchen island.

"Sure, blame it on the pedigree"

Emily brought down the newspaper and raised her eyebrow. "You seem alright now. Go away. I like my breakfast alone and quiet."

"Some_one_ is grumpy"

"I _was_ trying to feed you."

Quinn chuckled. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Thank you for the effort. "

"Sure. There's bacon and some other processed meat inside the freezer."

"You don't cook but your ref is well-stocked", Quinn noted after scanning the contents of the refrigerator.

"I hire someone to cook", the older woman mumbled before taking her coffee and flipping the paper's pages.

"It figures."

Emily sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her hair. "God, when will the stock market bloody improve? I'm losing money."

"Statistically, stock market performance goes through a four-year cycle. Which, interestingly, coincides with our presidential cycle. Wait for a couple of years."

The brunette looked up and laughed softly. "Thanks for that information."

Quinn shrugged. "I fried a new batch because there wasn't much I can do with your eggs burnidict,", she said nonchalantly while handing a plate to the brunette.

"Hilarious, you are", Emily responded flatly as she continued to scan the news.

Quinn sniggered. "What? It _was_ funny."

The brunette gave a small smile and shook her head. "Sure", she said without turning her head to face Quinn.

Quinn's smile faltered. She stared at Emily and studied the girl carefully. "You're awfully cold and distant."

"Hmm?"

"Look, I'm so sorry about last night.."

That got Emily's attention. Putting down the paper, she looked at Quinn and shook her head. "No,no. I'm sorry, it's not—I just have a lot on my mind, that's all. I'm glad you ran to me instead of..", flicked her wrist, "I don't know where else you go, actually. But really, I'm glad you thought of me."

"Oh" Quinn frowned. "What stuff?"

The older woman smiled. "Stuff at home."

"Like what?"

"You're awfully inquisitive today."

"And you're annoyingly evasive."

The brunette stared into Quinn's eyes, leaned forward and massaged her temple. "Quinn, what's going on?"

Quinn shifted her eyes and chewed her lip. "I feel like you've been pulling away since we got back from England. Until last night, we didn't see each other for almost a _month._"

"I'm not. Listen—"

"You said if I made things complicated, you'd never look back. Did I?"

"That was when our relationship was purely sexual. We're not there anymore. We're actually friends. And believe it or not, Quinn, I like you a lot as a friend. So I wish we could keep it that way."

"Did I ruin that? Last night?"

"No, not at all." Emily placed her hand on top of Quinn's. "When you feel like telling me what happened, I'm all yours. Do trust me that I was quite distracted earlier for reasons not related to you. I'm sorry about that."

"Why won't you tell me what's bothering you?"

The brunette pinched her nose. "It's about some inheritance issues. Layla's been apparently talking to some lawyers and plan to sue the pants off me for getting the bulk of Granda's money. It's nothing that I can't handle but it's humiliating to our family. I still can't believe we grew up in the same household."

"'so it's got nothing to do with me?"

Emily smiled scornfully. "Yeah. Like I said, nothing that concerns you, so please don't think I'm distancing myself because I have no reason to. I had just been busy preparing for whatever Layla throws at me."

Quinn looked down and hunched her shoulders. "I might have provoked her last Christmas"

"I have been told something went on while I took Lucie to the market."

"She was being a bitch to me "

"She's a bitch to everyone", Emily laughed.

"And she said nasty things about you, so.."

"I didn't know if I could thank you before because you chose not to tell me about it. But since you've mentioned it, I appreciate very much what you did. But don't connect that with what Layla's been up to. This has been going on for years, so don't blame yourself. You did the right thing. She had no right to be rude to you."

"So we're okay. You're not mad at me or anything like that."

"We're fine", Emily said with a reassuring smile.

Quinn made a sound of approval while stuffing her mouth with toast.

"Your phone has been ringing non-stop since I woke up, by the way", the older woman noted when she heard her own phone buzz. "Santana, for some odd reason, has my number and had been sending me messages non-stop asking if you're with me. I haven't replied because I don't know whether you want to be found."

Quinn sighed. "Yeah, where did I leave it?"

"Coffee table"

The blonde bit another piece of toast and let it hang between her teeth as she retrieved her phone. 10 missed calls, 15 text messages. She had to stop herself from laughing at the contents of the messages sent by Santana that swung from subtle concern, to obvious coaxing methods, to Lima Heights Adjacent threats demanding the blonde to reply and tell her where she was.

She decided to finally reply with "At Emily's. I'm fine. Will be back later" before turning of her phone and headed back to the kitchen, ignoring the rest of the calls and messages by Rachel.

Emily glanced at the blonde upon her return. "Everything alright?"

Quinn smirked. "Yeah, everything's a bed of roses."

"With loads of thorns?"

"I really don't feel like talking about it right now."

The brunette nodded. "Alright, I'm sorry."

Quinn puffed her cheeks and stared blankly. "What will you do if your ex-fiancée who shall remain nameless from now on, admitted to having sex with _her_ first ex-fiancée, and he will also be nameless, last holiday when you guys were supposed to be fixing things?"

Emily picked up her mug and ruminated for some time. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? You have the answer to life's questions."

"I have the answers to questions about things I've gone through myself. I was never stuck in a situation where I had to compete with a man or with anyone for that matter."

"Oh", Quinn pouted.

"This nameless fiancée of yours did not cheat on you. I hope that much is clear though."

"Yeah, I know that."

"So, what's the problem?"

Quinn's eyes widened. "What's the problem? She had sex with him."

"_You_ had sex with me. That didn't stop her asking you for another chance. A little bit of empathy, Quinn. That wasn't easy for Ra—nameless fiancée. Stop glaring at me. I didn't mention her name. Fully."

"That's different."

"How so?"

"Because when _we_ had sex, there wasn't any agreement made by nameless ex-fiancée and me on anything yet."

"Quinn. Correct me if I'm wrong but you told me you guys decided to spend some time apart. That's why you went to England with me and she returned to your hometown. You also told me you gave her permission to find out how she really feels about her ex-fiancée who is really nameless because I don't know who he is."

"Fucking Finn Hudson.", Quinn growled.

"Okay, Fucking Finn Hudson.", the brunette noted. "Are we really serious about the nameless ex-fiancée thing? It wears me out."

"Yes. What was your point?"

"Okay". The brunette sighed heavily at the childishness. "My point is didn't you expect something like that to happen?"

"I don't know what I expected to happen.", Quinn frowned. "Or maybe I do. And this wasn't the outcome I wanted."

"What exactly did you want?"

"That she'd realize it's me she wanted."

"So she's made a decision based on that?"

"No..she was..very apologetic. But when I asked her what that all meant to her, she said it further confused her. I think that's what hurts the most."

_Quinn went home from England with the determination of working things out with Rachel. If before, there was a shred of doubt, all of it disappeared. From knowing where she stood in Emily's life to realizing her mistakes borne out of self-reflection, she knew she was ready to take her share of the burden. They didn't see each other immediately for several reasons including the smaller girl's extended stay in Lima a few days after January 1st. So, she was very excited to show an invigorated and extremely optimistic Quinn. _

_Quinn can't remember the last time she hugged Rachel with such enthusiasm than that moment when she basically lifted the brunette off the floor and twirled her around. "I missed you **so **much!"_

_Quinn can't also remember the last time she wanted to drop the brunette on the floor like an abandoned doll than that moment her zest was met with a forced chuckle and a sad smile. She slowly let go of Rachel who balanced herself on her own feet. Quinn nodded then walked inside Rachel's apartment without being invited. The moment of reckoning was about to start. _

_Rachel's eyes followed Quinn nervously. "How was England?"_

_The blonde stopped rummaging her bag, looked up and smiled. "She was kind to me", she said before handing Rachel her gifts. _

"_That's really great.", Rachel smiled back with her arms wrapped around her torso. Her defensive stance. "Would you like some—"_

"_I would like some honesty with a dash of realism, yes.", Quinn mumbled as she stared into Rachel's eyes with a stoic expression. "What happened in Lima?"_

_Rachel pressed her palms together near her lips. "I—", she swallowed thickly. "Something happened between Finn and I. We..we.."_

_Quinn looked to the other side of the room. Their bedroom in particular. "You slept with Finn", she finished with a deadpan expression. _

_Rachel swiftly walked across and sat down next to Quinn. "Quinn..I don't—"_

"_Is...this your way of punishing me?"_

"_P-punishing?"_

"_Emily. For sleeping with Emily. And choosing to spend the holidays with her."_

_Rachel shook her head violently. "No, Quinn, no, it's not like that."_

"_Then.." Quinn massaged her temples and spoke in a soft, lackadaisical way, "tell me..because I don't really get it.." She looked up and tried to look at Rachel but her body seems to be rejecting her will. "I mean..you called me up and..were you already with Finn before that? Or...because you found out I'll be with Emily's family?"_

_Rachel noticed Quinn's labored breathing. If she wasn't scared of what an angry Quinn can do, she would have told Quinn to lash it out on her because every rise and fall of the blonde's chest was equivalent to a stab in Rachel's heart. But then maybe if Quinn would hurt her again, she deserved it. _

"_Quinn..you told me to explore my feelings for Finn. And you...you went on to explore other people."_

_The blonde chuckled sardonically and nodded several times. "I did...I did. But you were the one so adamant about getting back with me, Rachel. Then just because you didn't get what you want right away, you go to plan B. Was I ever your plan A, Rachel?"_

"_We didn't...we didn't deliberately sought each other out. It just..it just happened."_

"_Don't..don't give me that crap, Rachel..nothing just happens."_

"_Okay.." Rachel nodded. "Okay, I'm sorry."_

_Quinn ran her hand through her hair and exhaled sharply. "So..what now? Are you...are you with him?"_

"_I..I don't know. It happened so fast. We just..when he kissed me I—"_

"_I __**really**__don't want to know the details, Rachel.", Quinn breathed out. "And what do you mean you don't know? You can't..you can't not know"_

"_I really don't, Quinn.."_

_The blonde pursed her lips and nodded. "I see..." Quinn stood up and headed towards the door. _

"_Quinn. Where are you—"_

"_I'm making the decision for you."_

_Rachel tried to reach out for Quinn. "Please, please don't leave just yet."_

_Quinn turned around to face Rachel. "What do you want me to do, Rachel? Fight for you? I've done that for three years. Maybe even longer. I'm tired, Rachel. I'm so tired." _

"_Quinn, I—", the brunette stood up and walked closer. "Please, just give me time to explain."_

"_Three minutes. You've got three minutes to tell me everything you want to tell me before I walk out of your life."_

_Rachel bit her lip as she cried and shook her head. "I don't know what I want, Quinn. I love you, I honestly do. But when he kissed me, something in me stirred and I couldn't stop it. And he wants to give it another try. Please understand, he was all I ever wanted but—"_

"_He's all you have ever wanted?", Quinn asked in a rather weak voice. "Then I'm letting you go", Quinn whispered, "and let me go, Rachel". She walked out of the apartment without giving Rachel the three minutes she allotted ignoring the brunette's pleas._

"I ran for several hours. And that's how I ended up here last night."

"And literally almost assaulted me." Emily bit her inner cheek to stop herself from laughing as Quinn turned red.

"I—I, I'm.."

Emily cackled. "I was kidding! God, lighten up, will you? I would have thrown you out, Quinn, had I felt violated." She then looked worried. "Don't ever pull that stunt again. Running at 3 in the morning in Manhattan is _still_ very dangerous especially for a woman. You need me? Call me. I have a car. I'll go pick you up."

Quinn's expression turned sour then guilty. But Quinn _did_ feel guilty now that her head's clearer. When Emily opened the door, the blonde stormed inside and pushed Emily against the door before dragging and throwing her on the couch. Okay, so Emily didn't exactly resist. Immediately, anyway; but that was a show of bad manners to say the least.

"What do you plan to do now?"

"I don't know. Uhm..want to have dinner later?"

Emily had one eyebrow raised. "Are you asking me out on a _date?_ I was actually asking about your life plan."

The blonde shrugged. "I'm very free now. So my life plan's going to be based on that. And maybe that could include you."

"Quinn, I thought I—"

"Is being with me _that_ despicable to you?"

"God, Quinn. No. I told you, you're _very_—extremely—attractive. And trust me, some girl will definitely fall in love you madly. But—"

"Why can't it be you and now?"

"Because your heart just shattered into a million pieces, Quinn."

"So?"

"So?", Emily's eyes were wide open. "So, you need some time to at least get over the initial pang. You don't just jump from one relationship to another. "

"I'm not exactly jumping. It's more like overlapping, isn't it? And we _obviously_ get along, Emily." Quinn waved her hand around them. "This. See how domestic we are?"

"Yes, I can't argue against that."

"And I'm getting to be more relaxed with you."

"I've noticed."

"And my situation with nameless ex-fiancée was pretty much why I sulked the whole time."

"Well, no, not—"

"Okay, so majority of the reason. _Point _is, Emily, I'm working on my problems. You don't _hate_ my personality, do you? You can't. You can't deny you enjoy my company. We're not pretending to be _madly in _love with each other. We're two people who find this very convenient. We can actually make this work."

Emily gave her a thoughtful expression. "I can't believe I'm even listening to you. Okay, how about I make a deal?"

"A deal"

"Yes."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Give yourself three months. Nuh-uh", Emily held a finger to shut Quinn up. "Three months, that's all I ask. Don't go out with anyone, including me. And that comprises intimate contact of any form. "

"And then what?"

"Then if you still think that we can make _this_ work, then okay, we'll try."

"Three months?"

"Yes."

"From today?"

Emily rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Fine, starting today. I want you to breathe, Quinn. Find time for yourself and just breathe."

Quinn grinned widely then pecked the other girl's lips. "I have to go. It's inevitable to face Santana, so might as well get it done and over with."

"Right. Good luck. And don't forget to lock the door.", the brunette said as she returned to drinking her coffee and reading the papers.

Quinn was midway out when she paused, turned around and smirked. "See? We're almost like an old couple."

"More like lesbian bed death in the making", Emily mumbled under her breath while Quinn scrambled to get her clothes and leave the apartment.

Emily hoped that three months would be enough for Quinn. Not to come back and start a relationship, but to realize she needs more time for everything. She couldn't flat out deny the girl once again because she could sense that the blonde was nearing her breaking point. The desperation to feel wanted was screaming right out of Quinn's eyes. The girl was battle-weary and she just wanted to find a home.

But Emily also had faith in Quinn. The girl got pregnant and kicked out from her home at such a young age, rejected several times by different people, loved a woman who is apparently stupid enough to let Quinn slip through her hands, and still the blonde remained standing. She will recover. She'll get through this. Emily never doubted that and was quite confident she won't have to lie to Quinn later on. It's just a question of time.

Three months. In those three months, Quinn moved out of Santana's apartment and headed to Riverdale, Bronx (Which prompted Santana to annoy her endlessly with her new 'Quinnie from the block' moniker—which isn't exactly accurate since she chose an affluent neighborhood). So Bronx isn't exactly posh Upper East Side Manhattan but it's where Fordham is. And where Rachel isn't.

She found herself volunteering at the local youth center ran by St. Paul's Evangelical Lutheran church—a known gay affirming Christian community. She wasn't ready to go back and open the bible just yet, but she found a good place to start if and when she decided to. She mostly taught kids who were victims of child abuse how to draw and paint—a hobby she had left behind in Ohio.

Santana visited her almost once a week (Quinn had been consciously avoiding Manhattan as much as she can). Of course the Latina would never admit to missing her, and would constantly complain about having to drive all the way, but she never failed at showing up like clockwork. Their roles had been reversed. There was a time when Quinn had to take care of Santana, make sure she had eaten and that she was overall okay. Now it was the Latina's turn to bring her weekly Aunty Tana's casserole and check on Quinn every night. Quinn came to fully appreciate her friendship with her former rival, not to mention the amusing thought it brings that the one constant in her life is someone she used to call Satan.

On the first month she cried a lot. She cried until nothing came out anymore. She changed her cellphone number, email, and (finally) deleted her facebook account.

On the second month, she started gaining some weight that she lost and decided to quit smoking. Again. She became more committed to running and get back the abs she lost many moons ago (she had stopped blaming Puck but despite Rachel declaring her belly as the brunette's favoritest thing in the world, she was yet to recover the glory that was once Head Cheerio Quinn Fabray's body).

On the third month she faced one major thing that she had managed to avoid while living in Manhattan. With the go signal from her therapist and anger management supervisor, she took driving lessons and reapplied for her license.

Three months. She was feeling good about herself for the first time in a long while.

Three became four. She called Emily and thanked her. They had dinner, as friends, before Emily flew to Ireland and spend the summer with her son. There was slight embarrassment in facing the older woman given her proposition months before. But all is good in the British front. She lost a potential lover but gained a sister (she's been trying to block out the gross implication of that).

Four became five. She decided it's time to meet new people. She started with group dates. It was fun and brought very little expectations. Enough time to get to know each other without the burden of promise.

And that's when she got a voice mail from Rachel. She briefly wondered how the brunette found her new cellphone number when Santana had vowed never to talk to the diva again. She had no time to think of conspiracy theories though, because what interested her more was the content.

_Hey, Quinn. This is Rachel. Uhm, Rachel Berry. And I'm, uhm, I'm calling to, uh, invite you to a play? I went to audition for The Acting Company and I got in their summer production of Clytemnestra. I'm not, I'm not the lead but I'm part of the chorus, which is really good exposure for me. We'll be staging it at Baruch. Well, you know that they always stage at Baruch since you took me to some of their productions before. Uhm, anyway, yeah, I...I hope to see you there. Please? It would really mean so much for me. Okay. I've said a lot. I'm sorry. I hope you're doing fine. Bye. _

Well, fuck.

**A/N: Next chapter will be Rachel-centric. So yes, Finn would be there. I don't advocate violence, so please, try not to kill me. Also, you're of course free to disagree with me, but please do not expect me to portray Finn as an all out douchebag. He is merely incidental in all of this and regardless of how I feel about him in the show, in this fic, it all boils down to Rachel's decision. **


	20. Chapter 20

_Lay down all thought of your surrender_

_It's only me who's killing time_

_Lay down all dreams and themes once remembered_

_It's just the same_

_This miss you game_

_-Miss You Nights_

_Rachel had a mental list of things she loved about Quinn. One of them was what the blonde was doing to her that moment. She felt her girlfriend's lips brush over her nipple several times, teasing it with hot breath and light touch. It was an extremely pleasurable form of torture. But there was something else that filled up her mind and senses. She got back from another audition and was, once again, not called back. With her tail between her legs, she went home to her good girlfriend who became preoccupied finding ways to comfort her. _

"_Quinn?"_

"_hmm?"_

"_What if I don't ever get a job?"_

_Quinn's mouth slowly released her hardened nub and looked up at her. "…Are we talking …", Quinn furrowed her brows, "..now?"_

_Rachel sighed and shook her head. "No, you're right. I'm sorry." She offered a small smile. "Carry on."_

_Quinn quirked her eyebrows then scooted upwards and held Rachel tightly. "You're going to get your break, Rach. I think…I think you're just being a bit impatient."_

"_You think so?", the brunette asked softly. _

"_This was only your fifth try, right? And we've been here for two years. The probability of you getting a role right now is quite slim—though of course not improbable— since you're still studying and not actively looking for auditions."_

"_But I have a classmate who got a part in an off-Broadway play."_

"_Kurt told me because her father was the producer."_

"_I need to get connections, then."_

"_No... What you need is to learn as much as you can in NYADA and continue auditioning every now and then if only for the experience."_

_Rachel nodded. "After my fourth rejection, it doesn't hurt that much anymore though."_

"_Is that a good thing?"_

"_Yeah, I think so. I'm just really worried that I might end up as your jobless struggling artist girlfriend while you wow the academic world with your insights."_

"_You won't be. Just keep on doing what you're doing, Rach. I'm more than sure that it won't be long; you'll be getting your start in the big theatre world."_

"_And you're going to be there, right? No matter what happens?"_

"_Front and center"_

Rachel was pretty certain that she was not an evil person. She's not Hitler, or Nero, or any of those historical villains in one of Quinn's favorite shows: Ancients Behaving Badly. She never intended for anyone to get hurt. But it felt like with every move, she was in a catch-22 situation.

Or she could be proof positive of the boomerang effect.

She found herself staring blankly most of the time, blocking out lectures in class and barely eating. Her throat felt constricted most of the time like she was on the verge of crying. Numbness normally took over when something that reminded her of Quinn catches her attention. She looked and felt horrid in most days while she obsessed herself with checking her phone to see if Quinn had responded to at least one of her dozens of text messages sent.

So, please excuse the girl if you were one of the people who witnessed her break down at Rockefeller Plaza when she tried to call Quinn, for what seemed to be the 1 millionth time, and heard an automated voice prompt that informed her, "the number you have called is no longer in service."

It was the final nail on the coffin. First, her email messages bounced back, then Quinn's Facebook account was deactivated, now, this. She tried going to Santana's apartment only to be threatened with bodily harm by the Latina. She knew she was bordering on being a stalker when she held a stake out with Kurt for a few nights near Santana's apartment only to reach the conclusion that Quinn no longer stayed there.

Kurt had the sense to stop her from going to Fordham and look for Quinn. The blonde obviously didn't want to be found, Kurt told her. Even if she did get to see Quinn in her school, Rachel wouldn't have wanted to be publicly humiliated or to be absolutely ignored by her ex-girlfriend. So she left messages, twice a day; one in the morning and another one before she goes to sleep (if she ever got to sleep at all). Not a single response. She would have settled for a text message that told her to stop all forms of communication. Living as if she did not exist in Quinn Fabray's world made her feel so small and insignificant again. Just like high school. Only this time, she would have given everything she had for a mocking laugh after a slushie attack, cornering her against the lockers, or even hurtful messages on Myspace.

She shouldn't have gone back to Ohio. She should have manned up and told Quinn not to leave for England and just whisked the blonde away in some exotic and warm place in the Pacific islands. Or Florida. Florida can do. But she didn't. In the long list of regrets and mistakes she would recall in her memoire after her great Broadway retirement, she knew she would be dedicating a chapter or two on this period of her life, specifically this decision.

Ohio was nostalgia-land where time stood still. She saw the Finn Hudson of her past and she became the Rachel Berry of years ago. There was no one and nothing else; no wedding, accident, wheelchair, or beautiful hazel eyes that stared at her with so much intensity and adoration. It was just Rachel and Finn; Finn and Rachel. And so for a brief moment, she allowed herself to fully immerse herself inside that time capsule.

And Quinn was right. She was almost always right. When the weeks turned into months and the brunette felt as if she wasn't going anywhere with Quinn, panic started to build up. It took over her whole being after Quinn told her about Emily's invitation to spend the holidays in England. No matter what Quinn told her, if that British import decided to be serious in competition, Rachel felt she would lose. It's not even because Quinn looked up to the older woman, it's because Emily had so much more to offer. She understood Quinn's mind like Rachel never could and seems to be able to moderate the blonde's volatile mood without much effort. Emily could give something she could never give Quinn—the world.

Quinn told her there wasn't actually a choice. Emily wasn't a choice. She would choose Rachel in a heartbeat, but the brunette saw Quinn's actions differently. What she did with Finn wasn't a punishment; she wanted some sense of security that Quinn couldn't give her but Finn was willing to.

Quinn gave her three minutes. How could she have explained herself in three minutes? In the end, she wasn't even given that much.

She hardly thought though that it was unfair.

She simply ran out of time and chance.

She had three years to let go of Finn but she didn't.

She had every opportunity to explain herself and give Quinn the security the blonde was craving for but she didn't.

She had every reason to end her constant communication with Finn but she didn't.

They said play with fire and you get burned. This was fourth degree.

There was nothing she could do but wait. For what, she didn't know exactly. Finn hadn't exactly been helpful by constantly calling and hounding her about their situation. Rachel felt like her mind is about to explode. She needed distraction.

By some form of respite, the auditions came around. She wasn't exactly thrilled by the plot. After all, Clytemnestra was known for her extra-marital affair with Aegisthus while her husband, Agamemnon, was battling it out at Troy. So, she may have had the extra angst needed to have earned a spot as a member of the Chorus—a group of people who disliked the female protagonist with a passion. Yes, she identified with Clytemnestra—the manipulative, impatient, two-timing bitch that killed her husband —and hated it.

The first thing she wanted to do was to share the good news with Quinn. The blonde had been there throughout rejections, insecurities, and moments of wanting to give up. She was that one person who never lost faith in the brunette's potential. She deserved to know.

While Finn says, it is okay for her not make it; Quinn tells her it's impossible for her not to make it.

While Finn had always comforted her by saying she was enough for him; Quinn once admitted that she didn't feel adequate enough for the brunette because she believed Rachel deserved better.

No. Quinn deserved better, Rachel decided.

_Let me go_. Quinn's words kept playing inside Rachel's head. Three words, three syllables, so simple and elegant in the way the blonde said it. Though there was no anger or resentment laced in those words, Rachel will never forget the pure anguish in the blonde's voice.

She had no choice but to eventually give in.

That much Quinn deserved from her.

But the play changed everything. Rachel's anxiety grew the nearer they reached the production dates. Quinn had to know. Rachel knew she was being selfish. This was her first professional theatre exposure. Ten auditions later, and this is what Quinn had believed all this time. She will make it. It was impossible for her not to make it.

_It won't be long; you'll be getting your start in the big theatre world._

_And you're going to be there, right? No matter what happens?_

_Front and center_

So with less than two months, Rachel had the epiphany about her new mission in life: Find Quinn Fabray.

She braced herself for facial and physical injuries the moment Santana saw her at the lobby of the Latina's apartment. But the taller brunette simply sneered at her then walked away. The second day, she Latina rolled her eyes and then left Rachel at the lobby. God must not have rested on Sabbath day because Santana finally relented after six days of waiting.

"_I can actually call the police, you know? This qualifies as stalking." The Latina was literally catching her breath as she obviously just came back from running or jogging. _

"_You wouldn't be out of breath if you don't smoke, you know?"_

"_Fuck you. There are benefits to smoking."_

"_Like what?"_

"_Annoying people like you stay at a safe distance because you don't like the smell."_

"_That's it?"_

"_Smokers adjust better to higher altitude."_

"_You're making that up, aren't you?"_

"_No way I can make up that shit. What do you want, Rachel?"_

"_I was hoping we could talk."_

_Santana finished the contents of her water bottle then studied Rachel carefully. "Fine, let's go up."_

_The first thing Rachel tried to figure out, are signs of Quinn inside the apartment. _

"_Stop looking around. She's not here anymore.", the Latina laughed as she made coffee. _

"_She moved out?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Well…could you tell me where?"_

"_You're lucky I've let you in my apartment", Santana smirked then handed the diva her coffee. "You're not getting any more information from me except Quinn is fine, healthy and moving on."_

_Rachel pursed her lips and nodded. "That's...that's good to know."_

"_And she's been dating left and right. Hot chicks. Like you know, Kate Beckinsale hot."_

"_Emily sort of looks like her", Rachel sighed. _

"_Exactly, that's apparently Quinn's real type", Santana winked deviously at her. "She likes worldly women who can top her and—"_

"_You don't need to give me a very vivid description of Quinn's sex life.", the diva grimaced. "I get it, okay? I get that I screwed up"_

_Santana clapped daintily. "Yay for you."_

"_Look", the diva breathed out, "I got a part in a play by The Acting Company. And I really want Quinn to know about it. Any chance that, out of humanitarian reasons, you would relay the information to her?"_

"_Nope."_

"_Please?"_

"_No, Rachel.", Santana said sternly. "Fix the mess you made. I'm not helping you this time. It's not just Quinn you betrayed, you know? I trusted you."_

_Just when Rachel thought she could not feel worse about herself, Santana had to remind her that it wasn't just Quinn she owed a life-long apology to. For a split second, the diva saw the hurt in Santana's eyes. The Latina did go out of her way to help her get things right with Quinn. _

_Rachel nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry, Santana."_

_The Latina rolled her eyes and scoffed. "That doesn't mean anything to me right now."_

"_I know", Rachel said quietly. "I wish you could also watch the play?"_

"_Send me a ticket to a good seat and I'll think about it."_

_Rachel smiled softly. "Okay."_

_Santana walked her to the door while the diva explained the basic premise of the play. She accidentally glanced at a photo of Santana, Brittany and Quinn in their Cheerio uniforms hanging on the wall. _

_Great Spirit of Clytemnestra. The answer she was looking for. _

_The Blonde Oracle, Brittany S. Pierce. _

_Quinn would never keep Brittany out of the loop as far as communications is concerned. But both Santana and Quinn were protective of Brittany that they would shield her from aggravation. There was a huge chance that Brittany knew Quinn's number but is not aware that she's not suppose to give it out. Especially to one Rachel Berry. _

_She couldn't afford to feel guilty right now by dragging Brittany in the equation. After all, all is fair in love and war. _

_She stared at her phone for what seemed to be hours. She had actually gotten the number from Britt for some time now, but decided to hold off in using it. She was an impatient person, but not that impatient. But it was now or never. She knew there's going to be trouble the moment she uses it because Quinn would not stop until she finds out who gave her number away. Then Santana would hunt her down and probably skewer her at the Statue of Liberty. Rachel, however, believed it was going to be worth it. It was a good reason to die. _

_Rachel had to be very smart in trying to retrieve Quinn's number from Britt. Anyone who actually cared to listen to the tall dancer would know she was far from the dumb blonde she had portrayed herself to be. _

_She almost broke into a hallelujah when Brittany picked up the phone and chirpily greeted her. The brunette needed to tread carefully. She could lose the only chance she had. _

"_Hey, Britt"_

"_Rachel! How are you? I haven't heard from you in a long time."_

"_I know, I'm sorry. I've just been really busy. I got in this play, so rehearsals had been maddening."_

"_I can imagine. I'm currently on tour, actually."_

"_Oh, no wonder I hear lots of people. Are you in a bus?"_

"_Yep, pretty much. Congratulations, by the way. I wish I could see it."_

"_Me too. Britt, listen. Something weird happened to my phone. For some reason, all my contacts except for a few including yours and my dads, were erased and I can't retrieve them. Can you send me Santana's and Quinn's?"_

_Rachel closed her eyes and dreaded for the fall out when Brittany turned silent for some moment. "Britt?"_

"_Yes, hold on, Rach. I keep their numbers on my notebook, just let me get it. That sort of thing happened to me a year ago, so I keep a back up. Santana's idea. She's very smart."_

"_Oh, it did?" Rachel asked with a mixture of incredulity and delight. She looked up and mouthed "thank you, God"_

"_Just call her already", Kurt said in exasperation. "I'm getting really dizzy with you walking back and forth. _

"_What if she answers it? I'm pretty sure she didn't keep my number anymore."_

"_So, talk to her."_

"_I can't. I just want to leave a message."_

"_Text her."_

"_I don't trust texts, she could just delete it."_

"_She could also just delete the voice mail right away."_

"_Voice is more personal."_

"_Then call her. Now!"_

_And so, she did. _

_And Quinn replied that she would be there. _

_Then Finn called that he's flying to New York to watch her. _

_No. _

_Just no. _

_But Finn had made up his mind. He already had the ticket, and he will be flying with her fathers. _

_Traitors. _

_LeRoy washed his hands and said he wasn't the one who booked them. _

_Pilate. _

_Hiram said anyone was free to watch a play in this country. _

_Who are you? George Washington?_

She hated everyone who's complicating an already complicated situation. She never extended her invitation to Finn, mostly because she needed time and space from him. In the months following her stay in Ohio, she had a sad realization that while Finn had actually shown much growth, wasn't the man she was in love with. What she felt with him in Ohio was real, but existed in a specific time and place. The question was whether she would try and move forward with him. It wasn't about choosing between Quinn and him anymore. Rachel knew she lost the girl, and the best she can hope for is to gain back the friendship they lost. That would be enough. More than enough.

The Bernie West Theater was a very small intimate venue with less than a hundred seats. In so many ways, that made it more nerve-wracking especially since Rachel can clearly see the radiant glow coming from one gorgeous blonde sitting at the front row, center aisle (Her fathers and Finn were thankfully seated a few rows behind Quinn). When she entered the stage, she and Quinn were literally within arm's reach and the diva swore she saw the blonde smile and wink at her at one point.

The play, as expected, was a success. Mostly because these are the kind of plays that avant-garde artists and theatre fanatics go to. Rachel felt like she was in the verge of something huge, and Quinn was there to share it with her. She met her fathers and Finn at the hall outside the theatre when Kurt came running to her with a huge bouquet of flowers that almost covered his lithe body.

"Aww, Kurt!", Rachel swooned. "Thank you!"

"Thank me for carrying this. But", Kurt leaned closer and stage-whispered. "This, didn't come from me."

LeRoy raised his eyebrows. "A fan. Imagine that."

"I wonder who might that be.", Hiram chirped in then glanced at Finn who simply shrugged. "Oh.", Hiram said in disappointment. "Should have known."

Rachel knew right away. Stargazer lilies. She looked around then craned her neck to look further but no sign of Quinn in sight. The brunette opened the card and her smile faltered at the very generic "congratulations" message and was signed off in a very respectful, "Best, Quinn".

She shoved the bouquet at Kurt and ran towards the exit in the hopes of still finding Quinn. Another stroke of luck. "Quinn! Quinn!", Rachel called out then ran further on the sidewalk.

Quinn stopped walking but took time to turn around. She breathed deeply then forced a smile."Rachel", she husked, "you were amazing. Congratulations."

No attempts for a hug or a kiss on the cheek. Just Quinn standing within a safe distance. That was good enough, Rachel thought. The blonde could have pretended not to hear her, but she turned around. She couldn't have asked for more.

Rachel took one step closer. "I got your flowers. Thank you so much"

"You're welcome", Quinn nodded.

"So, uhm..", Rachel mumbled with her hands wrung together.

"I need to, uh, I need to go.", the blonde said with her eyes darting everywhere but Rachel's direction. "Santana's waiting for me at the parking lot."

"Oh."

"You should go back in", Quinn pressed her lips together and smiled. "Finn's waiting for you."

"Quinn…"

"You look good", the blonde grinned then started walking backwards. "Congratulations, again."

Rachel could only smile and watch Quinn stare back at her as she walked further away until she turned her back and took longer strides.

"You look happy", Rachel mumbled for no one to hear.

**A/N: You guys make me want to hug a thousand kittens with your reviews. I'm so amazed and I can't thank you enough. I wish I could hold a conversation with all of you but that would take a chapter or two just to comment on your views and opinion. **

**But just to address a general concern:**

**-I do read every single comment and take everything in consideration. I work independently but humbly, so I do try to weigh your (very strong) opinions where this fic should go. There are so many things that I fail to see but when pointed out by you guys, makes a lot of sense. With that, thank you again. Please trust me that things that fit in or can be accommodated in the fic, I will try to incorporate. But if it doesn't, I hope in the end, it still won't disappoint. **

**-I do try to make things as realistic as possible. We've all gone through some form of heartache. And we all know that life is made up of the grey areas. After all, if everything is in black and white, life would be one hell of a boring thing to go through. **

**-And yes, I am a very happy camper that you guys have such impassioned perspectives. I'm lucky and I know it. **


	21. Chapter 21

_Had myself a lover who was finer than gold_

_But I've broken up and busted up since_

_And love don't play any games with me_

_Anymore like she did before_

_-New York, New York_

Quinn was warming down after 20 minutes of running. She's getting better, but her mind had been somewhere else for the past few days that she knew she overdid it; because the more she thought of Rachel, the faster she ran. The blonde took one final sprint towards a huge tree at Bronx Park and held on to its trunk while reaching for her water bottle hooked on her belt. Okay, so she's ready to pass out. Taking one deep breath, she pressed her forehead against the trunk and calmed her body.

"Are you alright?"

Quinn turned to face her left and saw a fellow runner, probably about her age, looking deeply concerned.

The blonde smiled and nodded. "Yes, thank you. I just need a few minutes."

"Hey, you're Quinn Fabray, aren't you?"

Quinn sat down under the tree and gulped down some water while nodding. "Yeah, how did you—"

"Fordham", the girl smiled widely. "I saw you in the recent Student Colloquium. Your paper on Social Exclusion was brilliant and thought-provoking."

Quinn hunched over and smiled. "Thanks. Uhm, I didn't catch your name…"

"Andrea Bergmann. I'm an Economics major but I'm secretly into anthropology and sociology."

"Oh. You're not one of them.", Quinn chuckled.

"Which?", the other girl answered. "Those who think Economics is the answer to everything?"

Quinn laughed. "I didn't say that._ You _did."

"Well, don't worry about it. I'm not hardcore.", Andrea smirked and stepped forward. "Do you run here every day?"

"Yeah, almost every late afternoon. You?"

"My first time, actually. I run on the south side, since it's closer to my apartment. But I think I might be venturing out here more often from now on. Scenery's a lot…prettier."

Quinn looked up and saw Andrea's gaze focused on her. The former HBIC pressed her lips together and smiled while nodding her head, fully comprehending what the other girl meant.

"I'll see you, then, Quinn Fabray", the other girl said as she started to jog away.

Quinn's smile broke widely then shook her head as she stood up and headed towards the opposite direction. Another brunette. That wasn't the first time something similar happened. She's in fact, getting used to it. Of course when men are the ones who try to chat her up, she had the decency to come clean about her sexuality right away. She had never really given it much thought before because she felt it didn't matter. She had Rachel and she only dealt with Rachel. But these days, she had been forced to reckon with her sexuality in a more definite manner. She's lesbian. Not bisexual, or any other forms of categories. She likes women, and has a full appreciation of the female body. Nothing turns her on more than a woman's ass. And legs that go for miles; full lips and brown eyes. And yeah, she's describing Rachel Berry. Nothing turned her on like Rachel did.

Certainly not the two girls she's dated so far. She wasn't exactly Don Juan de Marco and she wasn't being careless. One of them was also from Fordham –and an acquaintance— and the other one she met in the Youth Center. Point is, she wasn't a "Puck in the making" as Santana pointed out. Two in three months, for crying out loud. That didn't qualify her as a player.

More like a serial monogamist.

What Quinn had been trying to ignore in those moments, but never fail to slap her in the face every time the passion had cooled down, is the fact that those women were mere substitutes. She had even admitted to herself that she didn't have an iota of an idea why she slept with them. And so Andrea, should you pursue Quinn Fabray later on, you would be receiving an apology from her and a generic statement of she's not ready for a serious relationship. But if you're willing to stick around for something non-committal, then Quinn would just be a phone call away.

It's nothing personal, Ms. Bergmann.

It's just you're not Rachel Berry.

As months passed by, the sharp pain in her heart almost every minute became duller though it never went away. It simply became more bearable and morphed into something that was part of Quinn's everyday life. So when she received the voicemail from Rachel asking her to go watch the play, she was half-disappointed that she didn't break down. A huge part of her didn't want to get over Rachel. The fewer twinges she felt, the more she grieved over the impending death of her love for the small brunette. While it may seem counter-intuitive, for Quinn, it was consistent to human nature. We all want to get over the pain, but not the feeling of being in love. We cling on to the feeling, the same way we desperately hang on to memories that fade quickly over time.

It's been more than a year since she first walked out of Rachel's life. She had come full circle as she felt the cold autumn breeze hit her face once again on the way back to her apartment. She hadn't heard from Rachel since the play. The brunette had not contacted her again despite having her number. Finn was there, and the blonde understood what it may have meant. She didn't want to know anymore. She was oddly at peace with believing that she had let go of Rachel in order for the brunette to be happy.

She knew the answer all along because she had given up the one thing she was always proud of—Beth. But she refused to do the same for Rachel. She instead held on to the brunette out of fear and selfishness. Their relationship was like a bird slowly being gripped to death by a hand that refused to let it fly.

She finally understood what it meant to love.

To let go is to love. To love is to let go.

Well, now, Quinn Fabray is learning how to fly. She had abandoned certain unwanted load along the way. She went home to Lima unannounced before the end of summer and spent a week in Columbus with her mom. They spoke about their relationship and her sexuality. Judy cried over the demise of her fantasy world. But more than that, she agonized over Quinn's heartache over her failed relationship with Rachel. Judy vowed to talk to Rachel and give her a good tongue-lashing for hurting her baby. Quinn admonished her mother about not putting tongue and lesbian relationships together in one sentence. It took awhile, but her mother finally understood then squealed in embarrassment.

She's back in Riverdale, a place she now considered her home. A quaint apartment overlooking Hudson River. Yeah. Hilarious. She was on her third year in Fordham and took a job as research assistant to one of her professors. She was slowly becoming financially independent from her father. Russel still pays the rent, but with the relatively cheaper cost of living in Bronx as opposed to where she used to be, a significant percentage of her monthly budgets and her had been wisely transferred to savings while her life-savings were distributed to small investments with the help of Emily's financial adviser.

And speaking of Emily, the woman had (expectedly) come back from Ireland for her second year in NYU master's program. She had the graciousness, though unnecessary, to ask Quinn if she was alright with the older woman seeing someone else. It was a weird feeling, seeing Emily with someone else. It was weirder because Emily had actually been tamed.

Oh, and Santana was in love. Though she's adamantly denying it. She's in _like_. Don't ever say she's head over heels in love with Emily. But whatever.

It all started when Santana asked Quinn for Emily's number because the Latina said she wanted to speak to the older woman about possible sponsorships. Given the British woman's connection, it was a natural thing for the Latina to have done what any student leader would have done.

Santana and Emily began corresponding while the older woman was still in Ireland. Quinn initially thought nothing of it as the Latina was all business-like and very upbeat about Emily's willingness to help out Santana's organization. Both were in NYU and it was a natural alliance of sorts. Then the blonde noticed subtle changes in her best friend's behavior. For one, she didn't carry her usual skepticism towards Emily like before. Two, as if Quinn would never notice, Santana had a hard time answering text messages those days without a smile that she tried hard to suppress. And third, the dark clouds that normally trail above the Latina's head all dissipated. But the blonde failed to see the connection between her two friends right away. She was, after all, a bit self-absorbed over the last few months.

_Santana cleared her throat for what seemed to have been the nth time that night but the blonde was too oblivious and immersed in working on her materials for the youth center. _

"_Quinn", Santana finally said. _

"_Hmm"_

"_We need to talk"_

_Quinn turned around and had a bemused expression. "Please don't tell me you're also breaking up with me."_

"_Funny ha ha", Santana retorted without bite. _

_Quinn glanced at her watch. "What are you still doing here, anyway? Are you planning to sleep here?"_

"_I could…"_

_Quinn chuckled. Well, Santana had very much taken over her bed, with her arms and legs stretched in four corners and stared at the ceiling. _

"_Fine by me. I've got extra toiletries in the bathroom cabinet and just grab anything you want from my closet."_

"_I missed this, you know?", Santana blurted out. _

"_What? Being annoyed by me?"_

"_Yep, and also…just hanging out with you."_

"_We see each other often"_

"_Not as often since you moved here"_

_Santana squirmed under Quinn's scrutinizing gaze. Busted. _

_The blonde smirked. "What's really bothering you, S?"_

"_Nothing", the Latina frowned. _

"_You're being extremely sentimental. That means, you're either hormonal or guilty of something that you fear I will get stark raving mad at you."_

"_Fuck you", Santana growled but was followed by a guilty expression. _

"_You've softened up through the years, S", Quinn laughed then sat next to the brunette. "Come on, what's wrong?"_

_Santana sighed loudly then sat up and tucked her knees. "Q, I need to level with you on something. And I don't really know how you'll take it."_

_Quinn aped her friend's actions until they sat face to face. "Okay", she nodded. _

"_How we are these past few years were, like, very different from how we were in McKinley, right? We're not just frenemies or competition. We're—"_

"_S", Quinn smiled and placed her hand on Santana's knee in a reassuring manner. "We've grown up, okay? If we weren't so clear about where our friendship was heading back then, I'm pretty sure we know by now we've got a strong one."_

"_Right", Santana nodded then breathed deeply. "Okay, so…", she looked at Quinn then quirked her eyebrows, "so I think I may be attracted to someone."_

"_Aww, S. You know I think you're also attractive", Quinn sniggered. _

"_Shut up", Santana pouted. _

"_Okay, just kidding." Quinn straightened up and put her serious face on. "You like someone. How's this related to me?"_

"_Be…cause you sorta liked this person before?", Santana said timidly with one of her eyes closed and slowly leaning backwards as if preparing herself to dodge Quinn's punch. _

_Quinn looked to her right and furrowed her brows before realization kicked in. "Holy crap", she mumbled with her eyes as huge as saucer plates. "You like Emily", she breathed out. _

"_I **swear**, I never meant for that to happen, Q"_

_Quinn scratched her neck and still could not react as she slowly processed the information. She slowly returned her attention at a very nervous Latina in front of her. "How and when?"_

"_I don't know **when** exactly", the Latina admitted with her shoulders slumped. "I just know I do."_

"_And…and she likes you back?"_

_Santana slumped further. "I don't know. I haven't told her."_

"_Because of me?"_

"_Yeah…pretty much. And well, I don't know how she, you know. I mean, she didn't want to have a committed relationship with you, right?"_

"_Oh, well, ours was a complicated story. She read me like a book and knew I wasn't ready to jump back in something like that."_

"_Well, I think you're getting too comfortable being a social butterfly these days."_

"_Are we talking about my life right now…?"_

_The Latina rolled her eyes and huffed. "We'll eventually have to talk about that, too, you know?"_

"_Yeah, but not right now."_

"_Yeah, okay. So anyway, those two pretty much make up the reasons why I haven't turned on my irresistibly Latin-hot charms at her."_

"_I can't really say much about your chances with Em. But you've got nothing to worry about me. Not in relation to that, anyway"_

_Santana visibly relaxed but still looked doubtful. "You sure? Because I can back off, you know."_

_Quinn chuckled and shook her head. "No need to back off, S. I promise. Had you told me this a few months back, I probably would have felt…slightly offended? But I can honestly say I don't feel anything towards her that way anymore."_

"_How **do **you feel about this, though?"_

"_A little weirded out", Quinn laughed. "But mostly fascinated. I mean..", she shrugged, "I didn't see this coming. At all."_

"_Why's that?", the Latina frowned. _

"_Well, first, physically, she isn't your type. And well, she's not…Britt."_

"_Santana chuckled. "Britt's special to me. She'll always be. But she's moved on. She has a good life in California and a boyfriend who loves and respects her very much. In the end, that's all I ever wanted for her. A good life and someone who could take her of her as good as I had, or better."_

"_So, you've decided to move on."_

"_Not consciously. I don't compare Britt to Emily simply because they can't be compared. Brittany holds a special place in my heart because she made me feel invincible at a time when I felt so vulnerable."_

"_And Em? How does she make you feel?"_

_Santana pressed her lips and smiled as she bobbed her head several times. "Like a woman? You know?"_

"_No, actually, I don't. Because she always treated me as a child."_

"_Oh", the Latina looked at her with sympathetic gaze. _

"_She makes you feel that and yet you haven't gone out yet?"_

"_Yeah, bitch makes me talk so much without trying."_

"_She's in Ireland"_

"_Video chat", Santana mumbled in one breath. _

_Quinn bit her inner cheek and fought the urge to laugh. "You're turning into a sap"_

"_I know" Santana laid down on her back and sighed dramatically. "The darkness of my solitude is done. She—my rising sun"_

_Quinn's mouth gaped. "Did you just quote a poem?"_

"_Yeah, what? I'm smart."_

"_You're also gross."_

So the first thing Santana did once Emily got back to New York is to ask her out.

And Quinn found herself in the same situation with Emily as with Santana—asking permission.

Quinn felt like the godfather in a Chinese mafia with all the kowtowing she received in order to receive her approval. It was funny but heartwarming at the same time. Other people may have had issues with this, but come on, Quinn and Santana shared boys in the past. And they were just boys. We're talking about Santana falling in love, here. Emily and Santana were kind of cute together. They curb each other's crazy. It's early days, but somehow, the steadiness that runs between her two friends make Quinn believe that they could be in for the long haul. How can Quinn really have an issue with it?

She was back to square one by taking Andrea out to dinner. Quinn was getting bored. She knew how this will end tonight, and how she will end it completely. She's going for it anyway. It was a Friday night and everyone's out. The last thing she wanted to be was the third wheel in Emily and Santana's date (though the two insisted on taking her).

She thought of Rachel. She never got bored of the diva.

But Andrea isn't Rachel.

And the blonde is getting tired of talking about the social sciences.

"Wanna go back to my place?", Quinn finally said.

"I—yeah, sure", Andrea smiled and nodded eagerly.

Quinn knew what it meant to love. She just wasn't ready for it again. So, she led Andrea in and made coffee that she was sure will turn cold and untouched.

Making out on the couch wasn't really a bad way of spending Friday nights.

It's just. It's not enough.

**A/N: I'd have to ask forgiveness for the length of this chapter(considering how long the others had been). Simply put, it's a transitional section, so yay that we're about to end angst :-) (Well, maybe not absolutely)**


	22. Chapter 22

_Will everything fall into place?_

_I really want you to know_

_There are so many different ways_

_To tell you_

_This time, I won't make it through the night without you_

_Tonight, tomorrow, any day, without you_

_-Far into the night (without you)_

Inviting someone for a Thanksgiving dinner shouldn't be so hard. It's such a generic American holiday that most people won't feel offended over it. But it was the most difficult thing for Rachel to ponder about. She wanted to invite Quinn (and Santana) to an intimate dinner with Kurt.

Kurt had voiced out a very strong opinion against it. It would be the most awkward thing in the world, he said. Imagine Quinn talking about how grateful she is for this year. That won't go well, Kurt reasoned out.

He had a valid point.

Her life certainly changed so much since last year. Rachel felt she had grown old before her time. Her dramatic side had even contemplated on getting a cat because it fits well with a future spinster's life. She had let go of Finn that week he visited New York. There was no need to prolong the agony and hurt him some more.

_She declined his invitation for a dinner because Rachel didn't want Finn to expect anything from her anymore. Instead, they met up after an early dinner with her fathers and headed towards Central Park for a walk. _

_She supposed that Finn had an inkling of where this will end. He was very quiet and had a permanent frown on his forehead. They didn't really have to talk much. _

_Rachel kept playing with her hands and thought of a good way to start. In the end, it was a simple pause and a "Finn, I need to talk to you about something."_

_Finn nodded then twisted his lips. "About us, isn't it?"_

_The brunette nodded then sat down on a bench. "Well, actually…there's no us. There hasn't been an us since—"_

"_Quinn's accident", Finn calmly said as he kicked some stone. _

_Rachel looked down and stared at her hands that were firmly placed on her lap. "I want you to know that it was never your fault. The decision was mine and no one else can be blamed for it."_

"_I know", he shrugged. "I can't even blame Quinn for it. I mean, I'm not the brightest bulb in the room, Rach, but I know Quinn had nothing to do with it. It did hurt my ego longer than the actual heartache", Finn chuckled. _

"_Your ego?"_

"_My then ex-girlfriend dating my then fiancée?", he quirked his eyebrows. "That's not a good thing."_

_Rachel laughed then shook her head. "I wonder how Noah feels, then."_

"_You're kidding right? He finds it the sexiest thing ever."_

"_Well, of course. Why did I even ask."_

_Finn smiled then cleared his throat. "So, uhm, I guess there's really no point to expect anything?"_

_The brunette worried her lip then nodded. "I thought…I thought we could rewind and continue where we left off, but it didn't feel the same, Finn. I shouldn't…I shouldn't have made you think there was a chance. Well..", Rachel sighed. "I thought there was still a chance."_

"_How do you know there isn't anymore?"_

"_Because this is my life, Finn. Look around us. You never wanted this life. But we blocked it out before because we were so…we were so in love. Can you honestly say you see yourself living here in Manhattan?"_

_Finn sat down next to Rachel and sighed. "No, I don't. I like it in Ohio."_

"_I know. I've come to realize, that not everyone has big city dreams. And that's okay. It's not a bad thing, is it?"_

_The tall boy quirked the corner of his lips upwards. "No, that doesn't make us less than the others. It just makes us more…relaxed."_

_The brunette chuckled and nodded in agreement. "It can be quite taxing here."_

"_I bet. I can't even get through the subway without my life flashing before my eyes."_

"_Okay, that's an exaggeration."_

"_Maybe, but you get what I mean, anyway. It confuses me."_

"_I do…Or maybe Quinn would understand it more. She lived through the system for years."_

"_She did?", Finn asked with a look of admiration. _

"_From Bronx to—", Rachel sat up and tilted her head before chuckling. "Okay, so that's where she's been hiding all this time."_

_Finn furrowed his brows and Rachel smiled at him. "Sorry, it's nothing. Just a eureka moment, that's all"_

"_So, uh, does this mean you're getting back with her?"_

_The diva pursed her lips and shook her head. "I've done enough damage to her, Finn. I don't think I still have the stomach to just waltz back in her life and hurt her again."_

_Finn nodded. "Just…out of curiosity, what exactly made you two break up?"_

"_You"_

"_Me? But I di—"_

"_More specifically, me believing I wasn't over you."_

_Finn frowned and blinked several times. "That's some complicated situation. I mean, you were together for three years. How could you have…so for three years you just pretended to love her?"_

_There was a certain tone of disbelief in Finn's voice and if Rachel didn't listen closely, disappointment as well. _

"_That's not possible, because you do love her", Finn continued. He wasn't getting it. He had a hard time comprehending how something that should have been so simple, was so complicated. _

"_I thought I still loved you, I deluded—tricked myself in believing that because, I guess, I felt that I didn't have much choice but to let you go. I felt guilty because I felt I was the cause of her accident. Then I found out she had feelings for me long before that. I kind of connected the two. So…yeah."_

_Finn scratched the back of his head. "So…do you love her or not?"_

_Rachel smiled. Sometimes, it's just really about answering the simple questions. "I do."_

"_So why did…", he pointed to himself then Rachel. "You know, last Christmas."_

_Rachel sighed in exasperation. "Because I got confused. I tried to win her back but she just kept fending me off. And you know me.", she shrugged. _

"_Afraid of being alone?"_

"_Yeah", she said with her head hung low. _

"_Well…at least I got to see you perform."_

"_Finn, I'm really, really sorry. I could have dealt with…everything in a better way."_

"_You were scared. I get that. Can't say I'm not disappointed. But I'll live."_

"_So..what..what are you going to do now?"_

"_I take my flight back to Lima tomorrow", Finn chuckled. "We're still going to be friends, right?"_

_Rachel nodded. "I think we'll always be friends, Finn."_

"_That's good to know."_

"_Finn, do you think Quinn still loves me?"_

"_Yeah…yeah I think so. That kind of love doesn't go away easily."_

"_What kind of love?"_

"_Did she like taking the train?"_

_Rachel frowned. She had no idea where Finn was zeroing on the subway again. "No, not in particular."_

"_You can't really make Quinn do anything she hated with a passion. But, she took the subway for three years even if she probably suffered so much, just so she can go home to you, everyday. That's a special kind of love. Not everyone will be willing to do that."_

"_You wouldn't?"_

"_If I were claustrophobic like Quinn? I most probably would not."_

_Rachel's eyes widened and gasped. "I can't believe you remembered she's claustrophobic."_

_Finn threw a lopsided smiled. "Yeah, well—", he then narrowed his eyes at Rachel and leant forward. "You totally forgot about that, didn't you?"_

Well, if Finn's subway analysis of love is correct, she still had a chance with Quinn. The only problem is she didn't trust herself anymore. She didn't trust her jealousy and possessiveness or her insecurities. She sometimes wished Quinn was not that attractive or smart. And judging from the last time she saw the blonde, she looked more gorgeous (when the brunette thought it was impossible already). She had to remind herself that those hypnotic hazel eyes once looked to her and only her. That despite the world's attention directed to the blonde, Quinn only paid attention to her.

Quinn always kind of did.

Pornographic drawings and all.

She missed those days. Not the drawings, of course. Just the attention.

But more importantly, she missed seeing Quinn smile.

She missed being the reason behind that smile.

She doesn't have to be the sole reason. She doesn't even have to be the primary reason.

But she just had to try and make it up to Quinn one more time.

It's either they become friends again or she won't find closure.

If she tried to move on without making this right, it will just be the same old story. She will hurt another soul because she won't stop obsessing about Quinn.

Most importantly, she needed to make amends with Quinn because she knew how much she had hurt the blonde.

She took out her phone. This is it. All or nothing.

"_Hey, you._"

5 minutes…20…59…

"_Hey, yourself."_

Rachel wanted to cry. She had never seen such a beautiful text message.

"_Busy?"_

"_Not anymore. Done cooking."_

"_Oh. What's in the kitchen?"_

"_A very impatient Santana. Emily's running a bit late."_

"_Just the three of you?"_

"_No, we're planning to have a foam bubble party later. With lots of strippers."_

"_Sounds appropriate for the occasion."_

"_Highly. How about you?"_

"_Just having dinner with some NYADA people."_

"_And you're texting me? That's rude, Miss Berry."_

"_They're arguing whether Hugh Jackman is gay or not. I don't really care either way."_

"_He's gay."_

"_But he has a wife, and kids!"_

"_And I slept with Puck and got pregnant. Your point?"_

"_Okay, I may have lost the argument right there."_

"_Hugh Jackman aside how's dinner so far?"_

"_Pretty good, I guess."_

"_They forgot you're vegan, huh?"_

"_Not their fault though. I should have reminded them."_

_One…five…ten…_

"_I have some vegan shepherd's pie, if you want"_

Rachel almost choked on wine while reading the message, but the arguments on who's gay in Hollywood was too heated for anyone to notice. She chewed her lower lip and thought of a good response to that.

"_Why do you have a vegan dish?"_

"_I'm trying to eat healthier."_

"_That's good to know, Quinn."_

"_Yeah, so do you want to have some? No one deserves to be hungry on Thanksgiving."_

"_But how will I eat it?"_

"_With a fork."_

"_Hilarious. I meant, how will I get it from you?"_

Rachel sighed. Another long delayed reply. It's like Quinn wanted to kill her with suspense.

"_Where are you? I'll pick you up"_

Rachel breathed deeply.

"_It's quite late to take the train, Quinn. I don't want to put you at risk."_

"_I'm driving."_

"_You're driving again?"_

"_Yeah, I started a few months ago. I have a car, so it's fine. Where are you?"_

"_But what about Santana and Emily?"_

"_I think they'd be happier with me gone."_

"_I beg your pardon?"_

"_Oh. That's right. You don't know. They're dating."_

"_Your ex-girlfriend is dating your best friend."_

"_She was never my ex-girlfriend. Look, do you want to be fed or not?_"

"_Yeah, I do. Park and 38th Lexington"_

"_Okay, give me an hour."_

It was the longest hour of Rachel's life. She had a good sense not to text Quinn while driving of course so she had nothing better to do than tap her fingers on the table. Kurt finally noticed the diva's anxiety and nudged her. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing", Rachel said while she smoothed out her dress.

"Nothing, my foot."

"Okay, fine. I would need to excuse myself in approximately 10 minutes because Quinn's picking me up."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Quinn as in Quinn Fabray?"

"Do you know any other Quinn?"

"Don't sass me, you know what I mean."

"I sent a text message earlier…you know, just to check if she's alive and all."

"And how did it skip from that to Quinn going all the way here for you?"

"I told her I couldn't eat the food here because it's not vegan-friendly. She said she had vegan shepherd's pie so she's bringing me some."

Kurt furrowed his brows. "So she's dropping off food."

"No, she's picking me up."

"No, you said, she's bringing you food."

"No, she said she's picking me up."

Kurt tilted his head looked at her skeptically.

"I'm _not _imagining things, Kurt." She scrolled down to look for the message then showed it to Kurt. "See?"

Kurt nodded slowly. "Interesting.", he drawled out.

"No, it's not. This is just us trying to be friends, I'm sure."

"Right, like you two can keep your hands off each other."

"That's not—" Rachel looked down when she felt her phone vibrate. "She's here. I'll just sneak out, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll cover for you."

Rachel went on a stealth mode then actually ran down the stairs. She saw a black sedan parked in front and a blonde waving at her from the driver's seat. "Get in", Quinn grinned widely.

Her stomach back flipped for a second. Is it safe for Quinn to drive?

And just like that, Quinn read her mind. "I'm good. I've been driving for some time now."

Rachel smiled bashfully then nodded before getting in. "This is quite comfy", she noted while adjusting her seatbelt.

"Thanks", Quinn mumbled as she started driving. She drove at a steady pace without taking her eyes off the road. "You_ can_ actually talk to me, Rachel.", she chuckled.

"Oh", the brunette giggled the bit her lower lip. "I just…I don't want to distract you."

"Talking's not much of a distraction to me. Texting is."

Rachel smiled widely. This is huge progress for Quinn. "Okay, that's good to know."

"…So where exactly are you taking me?", Rachel frowned.

"I'm taking you this café in Greenwich. Ever heard of Cornelia Street Café?"

"No, I don't think so"

"Not your thing, huh?"

"Why? What's in there?"

"Poetry and spoken word nights and jazz music mostly."

The first thing Rachel noticed was they didn't go in right away because Quinn turned busy on her phone. A young-ish man came out and motioned them to follow him.

"Who's that?"

"The manager"

"You know him?"

"Santana does. This place is usually strictly reservation"

"Usually"

"Santana Lopez becomes the exception. Homegirl likes poetry, who would have known?"

"Homegirl. Quinn, stick to your elegant language."

"Fine, fine."

They entered a bi-level café and went straight to the performance space downstairs. It was one long candle-lit area with the seats located on two sides leading to the stage. Quinn offered Rachel the cushioned seat while she took the chair directly in front of the brunette. "We'll have two glasses of Autumn in New York, water, and uh, fork.", Quinn nodded at the waiter.

Rachel leaned closer and whispered. "Are we allowed to bring in food?"

"No, I don't think so.", Quinn answered while taking out a Tupperware from her bag.

"Then, put _that_ back"

"No, I won't. If they kick us out for that reason, they'll hear it from Santana."

Rachel chuckled. "Homegirl, huh?"

"Yeah", the blonde nodded.

"We could just order here, though. I'm sure they have vegan selection."

"Yeah, but I already made this", Quinn pouted. "I didn't actually plan on bringing you here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I thought we could just have dinner back in your apartment. But, I'm not sure if I'm ready to do that."

Rachel gave a small smile and nodded. "I appreciate the honesty. Speaking of, do you think we can work on the transfer of lease? We've been lucky so far, but I don't want to, you know, push it."

"Yeah..", Quinn nodded. "Yeah, we'll work on that. I'm sorry it took a long time"

"It's fine", the brunette smiled. "So, uh", she breathed in, "how are you?"

Quinn smiled back then waited for the server to leave their drinks. "It's been good. I got a research assistant job, and I've been volunteering at a local church-ran youth center. In Bronx", the blonde nodded once, "that's where I'm located now."

"I sort of figured that out. You'd want to be near Fordham. So, you found a church you feel comfortable in?"

The blonde shook her head. "No…I mean, I just volunteer at their youth center. I teach kids, who were victims of abuse, painting, drawing, stuff like that. I haven't really gone back to church though."

"Well, it's really nice that you're giving your time for to help out."

"Yeah, it really feels good. Uhm, you?"

"Same old. NYADA. I haven't gone back to auditioning because school's been crazy."

"I can imagine. You're graduating this year. Time flies."

"And my life is still filled with uncertainties", Rachel laughed.

"You chose the road of the artists, deal with it", the blonde playfully retorted.

"I am, I am. Not everyone can be Miss Academia, you know?"

"Well, I could have been in theatre too if I went to Yale."

Rachel's smile faltered then stared at Quinn. "Do you…regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Not going to Yale…because of me"

Quinn sat up straight and tilted her head and pressed her lips before slowly breaking into a smile. "I don't."

A/N:

Once again, thanks for all your insightful comments/opinions/reviews.

To the readers who don't agree with the storyline or have lost interest (prolonged angst and all) or don't like the story at all, thank you for your comments and for the fact that you still gave it a try. I do appreciate it a lot and I will think about the things you pointed out for my next fic .(since it is a bit late to change courses now for this story) :-)

As for Brittana, I am such a huge fan of this couple it's bordering on ridiculous so I get the disappointment and no need to apologize for insisting on it (yes, **sandwichself**, I'm talking to you ;-) ). (Why I can't start to write Brittana fics: because honestly, I can't see any friction. Can we all just agree they are perfect for each other and will live happily ever after, canonically speaking?) Unfortunately, unless I find a way for Santana to move to California (because I personally don't see Brittany in New York), their relationship as far as this fic is concerned reached a plateau a long time ago. And more importantly, all events in this story affect Quinn and Rachel directly, so I didn't keep Emily for vanity's sake but because she, and her relationship with Santana are instrumental to the extremely clueless couple we all love.

I was being facetious when I said that there would still be angst on the next few chapters. I am honest in saying the last chapter is a transitional chapter. Less angst, more fluff from now on.

And to **Anonymous27**: And here I am thinking no one would notice that itty-bitty incident between Rachel and Andrea. LOL. There's always the character that's clueless and loses out to everyone in every story. Sorry, my weird sense of humor took over.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N:

To **Braziliangirl**- It's scary how you're able to read my mind. The next few chapters were basically done (in need of editing and some adjustments) when I read your comment and it's just eerily what these updates will be addressing. No, there's nothing offensive at all with your comments. I completely understand what you're saying. No worries.

To **Icrazemag**- this isn't a chapter-based progression so, yes, I completely agree with you. The comments won't change the way this fic is going, overall. I simply meant that there are opinions that made sense to me and will try to improve on my writing skills (plot wise, especially) for my next fic :-)

To **Sdiaz** – it's a faberry fic, that should be a good hint :p

_I don't get many things right the first time,  
>In fact I am told that a lot.<br>-The Luckiest_

"_Quinn? Quinn?", Rachel rushed inside their apartment in almost panic. She heard a sneeze. No, make it three sneezes and a loud groan. Dumping her bag and coat on the floor, she rushed to their room and found a very sick, pale, and red-nosed Quinn curled up with the comforter tucked up to her chin. _

_Taking off her shoes, she tried climbing the bed only to be met with hostile resistance. "No, no, no, ged oud. You'd ged sick, too.", the blonde protested as she turned away from Rachel and curled up some more. _

_The brunette had to press her lips together real hard to stifle a huge smile at the adorableness of a sick Quinn Fabray. "See, I told you not to go to school today. You've been feverish since last night."_

"_I was fine this mor-" Rachel winced when Quinn sneezed. That was a painful sound. "-nig", she ended with a sniff. _

_Rachel, however, was undeterred and cuddled a squirming blonde. "Racheeeeel. I feel gross.", the blonde grimaced and turned her head sideways several times in an effort to dodge the diva's kiss. _

"_I'm not leaving you, so stop fighting.", the diva said pointedly and gave Quinn a peck on the lips. "I take my vitamins religiously, unlike some people I know. So my immune system's in perfect condition."_

_Quinn groaned in response and relaxed a bit. "Who took you home?", the brunette inquired while stroking the blonde's arm in a comforting manner. _

"_Kenny"_

"_Who's Kenny?"_

"_School nurse"_

"_You have a school nurse named Kenny and she drove you home?"_

"_He is a he"_

"_Oh. Okay, makes sense now." Rachel kissed the blonde's shoulder. "Do we have those cold rubs?"_

"_I thig so."_

"_Okay, let me check our medicine cab. I'll give you a sponge bath first, that should make you feel better."_

_Quinn sluggishly sat up as Rachel removed her shirt then immediately covering her back with a towel. The blonde closed her eyes and let out a sigh of contentment while Rachel gently rubbed her face and neck with a face towel soaked in warm water and alcohol. "Mmm, feels good.", Quinn mumbled after feeling the cloth rub on the crevices of her body. _

_She felt the brunette's small hands push her shoulders for her to lie down. Despite her hazy vision, Quinn attempted to focus on Rachel's face that was filled with concern and focus with the task at hand. "Good nurse", she smiled lopsidedly. _

"_Better than Kenny the Nurse?", Rachel chuckled. _

"_Way better"_

"_Wait.", the brunette frowned. "He didn't give you a sponge bath, did he?", she stood up with hands on waist._

"_Ugh, no."_

"_Okay, good. Just checking.", the diva mumbled as she returned to her task. After the bath, she generously scooped a glop of cold rub and massaged it on Quinn's chest, neck and back until the blonde was able to breathe better. "Okay, time to put some clothes on"_

"_Mmpff, no."_

"_What do you mean, no?"_

"_I don't wanna get up. It's making me dizzy."_

_Rachel sighed then grabbed some clothes from the closet. "Okay then, we'll do this the harder way", she muttered as she pulled up Quinn to a sitting position and put on a wife-beater and Fordham hoodie sweatshirt. "I didn't realize when you're sick, it's like dressing up a ragdoll instead of Barbie", Rachel giggled then kissed Quinn's cheek. _

_Quinn frowned then slumped back on the bed. "I'm not Barbie."_

"_No, you're right. You're prettier than Barbie" Rachel snuggly laid on top of Quinn after changing her clothes then whispered. "Is this okay? You can breathe?"_

_The blonde automatically wrapped her arms around Rachel. "Mhm..very warm"_

"_Thought so. I'm warm-blooded"_

"_I hade being sick"_

"_I'm sure. You're not leaving the apartment until you're really feeling much better, okay? And you can't escape from me because I'll be here with you the whole time."_

"_But..NYADA"_

"_I won't fail any subject for cutting a few days worth of lectures. Your welfare is more important."_

_Quinn opened her eyes and smiled. "Yeah?"_

"_Definitely", Rachel said as she burrowed her face on Quinn's neck, failing to see the sudden change in Quinn's mood. _

"Best Thanksgiving. Ever.", Rachel sighed as she snuggled up on her loveseat.

"Uh-huh, I bet it was", Kurt said with his mouth full of popcorn. "So, did she take you to her new crib?", he asked while waggling his eyebrows.

"No, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. I'm just basing my assumptions on the fact that you look like a content puppy that just had a good meal."

"It's not like that, Kurt. It's different this time. I want us to be friends. I don't want to do anything that will jeopardize that. So this face?", she pointed at herself, "This happy, content face is there because I feel like I may have that chance to be her friend again. I really can't wish for anything more than that."

"But, why?"

"Because I love her! So I can't be selfish anymore. It's hard though, I must tell you. Like, right now. I feel like I'm about to spontaneously combust because I want to text her, but I'm _trying_ to pace things. I don't want her to run the opposite direction again because I was all over her."

Kurt jutted his lip and nodded. "That's very wise."

"See? I do have wisdom hidden somewhere."

"Too bad it didn't rear its head when you needed it the most. Like when you decided to sleep with Finn."

"Yes, well, I can't do anything about that anymore. I just have to keep moving forward. So please stop reminding me of how horrible I am as a person."

"I keep reminding you of your mishaps so you won't repeat them. But you know, when will I ever learn? You never listen to me."

"I am trying"

"So what's your game plan?"

"I don't have one"

"Who are you and what have you done to Rachel?"

"It's kind of hard to plan anything when I don't know where to begin, and what the other person is thinking."

"You came home late, so what exactly did you guys do last week?"

"Talk"

"What did you talk about?"

"Everything and nothing"

"You know, you'd have to be more elaborate in your description, Rachel."

"We talked about our lives these days", Rachel smiled at the thought. "She volunteers for a youth program. It's very sweet of her. Oh, and did you know Santana and Emily are dating?"

"Are you serious? That's…that's…I don't know how to describe it, really."

"Weird?"

"Close to that"

"Quinn's apparently okay with it, because turns out, she and Emily's more like sisters now."

"So you can strike her out as your competition."

"Kurt, this is the last time I will say this. I'm _not_ trying to get back with Quinn."

"So you won't care if Quinn decides to date someone else? Wait, is she _even_ single? No offense, but Quinn's kind of…she's the type of girl who doesn't stay single for a long time."

"It's not that I won't care. Of course I would. And it will hurt, real bad. But my determination to make good with her this time is not dependent on that. And to answer your second question, that's kind of the nothing part I said earlier. We avoided discussions about those things. So, actually, no, I don't know if she's dating someone right now."

"So…she doesn't know about the non-Finn in your life, as well."

Rachel shook her head. "We just saw each other after a long time, Kurt. And we're still treading carefully. I doubt if that topic was a good subject matter. It might have overwhelmed us. But…I don't know. Quinn's a smart woman. The fact that I was spending Thanksgiving with NYADA folks instead of going to Lima and be with Finn…I don't know, she must have at least gotten the hint."

"Or she could assume Finn couldn't make it. Point is, do you think it will make a difference when she finds out?"

"Honestly? No, I don't think so. There's just too many bad feelings that we need to get over with first. But I don't plan to hide anything from her anymore."

"That's a good start"

"I miss her voice"

"That's off-tangent"

Rachel laughed then shook her head while tinkering with her phone. "It is. But it's on my mind right now."

"Are you talking about her singing? Or just her ridiculously sexy bedroom voice when she talks?"

"Both. And both are ridiculously sexy."

"So you just plan to walk up to her and say, 'Hey Quinn, I miss your voice. Do you know that turns me on?' That will go well with friends-only zone."

"Kurt Hummel, you are honestly annoying right now. That wasn't even in my mind."

Kurt stared at her with such intensity it could have bore holes on Rachel's face. "You're really committed to this. This whole friends-with-Quinn-thing-and-nothing-more."

"_If _Quinn decides there should be more later on, I would not be opposed to it, of course. But I won't push anything this time. I just want some sense of normalcy with her."

"Then do something."

"Like what?"

"You want to text her, go text her. It's what friends do."

"But I don't want to suffocate her."

"If she doesn't reply, then don't follow it up. Simple as that. She makes her own decisions, Rachel. It's not like she is under your spell that she would feel obliged to send a reply even if and when she doesn't want to."

The brunette furrowed her brows and unlocked her phone but made no move to type in a message.

"Look, all I'm saying is _you_ are thinking _so_ hard. In high school, Quinn sought you out at a moment you least expected it, right? Don't make this as if it's a chore for both of you. You might end up giving her mixed signals."

"I guess so. Maybe later. She's…", Rachel glanced at the wall clock, "probably working right now."

"It's almost nine."

"Research job."

"Oh. So you know her schedule already."

"I'm just guessing.", Rachel said defensively.

Pacing isn't exactly Rachel's strongest suit. And Quinn, in her opinion, was playing hard to get. She had every right to, of course. Rachel decided to invite the blonde for coffee the next day, but Quinn politely declined. The brunette extended several invitations but one by one, they were shot down by her ex-fiancée through various reasons. Meeting, youth center, more meetings. Rachel was beginning to wonder if Thanksgiving was just a mere fluke. Or Quinn desperately wanting to get out of the third wheel situation and her texting was just perfecting timing and excuse to leave.

She had no right to demand or even to complain. But it hurt every single time. Grin and bear it. That's been her mantra these days. She'll hit pay dirt in the end, she knows it.

Gold came in the form of a phone call from Quinn asking if she's free to shop with her on a Saturday. Of course she's free. She's been freeing herself up for a day like that. Quinn is one of her two priorities in life from now on. Her career comes on equal footing with the blonde.

Quinn was a cool autumn breeze personified. Her hair has grown significantly longer but was tied up in an off-duty manner. Wearing a navy coat and white slacks, Quinn literally made heads turn as she made quick strides to meet Rachel in the middle at Central Park West.

"Quinn", Rachel smiled then hugged the other girl without warning. She felt Quinn stiffen for a second but relaxed but in her arms almost immediately.

"Sorry, I'm late. Did you wait too long?", Quinn said while she slowly stepped back.

"No, don't worry about it. I was amusing myself with those street performers."

Quinn glanced and saw some b-boy dancers entertaining a huge crowd of tourists then nodded. "I thought you could help me out pick some things for Beth at F.A.O Schwarz for Christmas."

Rachel blinked. "Quinn, Beth's in grade school now."

"Yeah, so?"

"So…maybe she won't appreciate toys very much anymore."

Quinn scoffed while guiding Rachel towards the store. "I still appreciate toys."

"Yes, but, maybe you could also get her some clothes? Young girls are very much updated in fashion these days. Or books? How about something like your e-book reader?"

Quinn shook her head. "If I'm getting her books, it has to be the hard copy. I don't want her to not appreciate what a real book looks like."

"Okay, so how about..a few toys, some clothes and a couple of books?"

"Yeah, okay. That sounds logical. Then I can gauge which ones she appreciates best." Quinn stopped walking and turned to face the brunette. "I can't believe she's…", she shook her head, "time moves so fast, I can't even connect that fact with how I imagine Beth in my head."

"How do you see her?"

"Still a baby.", the blonde shrugged. "The last time I really got to spend enough time with her was before we left for New York."

"But you talk to her often, right?"

"We video-chat. But still, it's just..I don't know. I don't want her to grow up just yet, I guess."

"Buying her toys won't stop her from growing up", the diva chuckled while playfully nudging the taller girl.

"Yeah, but it might distract her from boys for a long time."

"Okay, so you're the anxious mom type. Hooking up their phones with gps so you can monitor their whereabouts, stalking their friends' facebook profiles, stuff like that."

"I don't know, I kind of always imagined you'd be the one in charge of that, not me."

Their eyes met and both blushed. It's the cold wind. It has to be. The only problem is they're already inside the store. What autumn air?

Rachel's eyes were not firmly glued at the toy in front of her. She had no idea what it was. Like Pokemon meets Sailormoon. Must be a new cartoon. She's not thinking about Quinn and kids. Damn it. She's thinking of Quinn, and a cute blonde little boy, preferably named Isaiah Berry-Fabray, playing with the huge piano on the second floor of this building. Most adorable thing. Ever.

Oh, Moses. This is not how she planned things.

Rachel subtly glanced at the blonde who had her ruminating Quinn face on. Or was that a look of displeasure? So Quinn slipped. They never had an actual conversation about having a family when they were still together. Rachel had no idea how many kids Quinn wanted or if she preferred a girl or a boy. But today, it seemed clear that Quinn had ideas about how their family dynamics would have been. She could see that Quinn was struggling now on how to break the ice. "Hey", Rachel mumbled. "I think Beth would really like those hard to solve puzzles. Not too kiddie but still a toy, you know?"

Quinn smiled widely. "Yeah, you know what? She likes playing sudoku"

"At that age? Okay, now we know you have strong genes."

"On the contrary, Puck is really good in math and logic. He was just too damn lazy to even acknowledge it."

The brunette laughed. "How is he? I haven't heard much from him. Does he contact you?"

"Yeah, we chat a lot of times." Quinn looked at Rachel to gauge her reaction, but only found the brunette nodding and waiting for her to continue. "He's doing well with his pool cleaning business. He's thinking of expanding it to plumbing. I think he's in the process of getting a loan to buy equipment and hire people."

"That's.." Rachel quirked her eyebrows and nodded. "Commendable of him. "

"He's really trying. He wants Beth to be proud of him."

"I'm sure she is."

"He is her idol. Which, _kind_ of makes me worry a bit", the blonde laughed.

"So, we will expect a badass Beth in the future."

"Just as long as there won't be a Mohawk", Quinn said, punctuating it with her hands making a sweeping motion.

"How about pink?"

"Oh, you think you're funny huh?", Quinn playfully raised her eyebrow at the brunette.

"Just asking", Rachel grinned widely. "I mean, you have to be ready, because a rebellious streak seems to be present on both sides."

"But she's being raised by Shelby. I happen to believe nurture is stronger than nature", the blonde said with a smug smile.

"Ah. Shelby. Who agreed to be surrogate for a gay couple to one Rachel Berry."

Quinn opened her mouth and raised her finger to argue then frowned. "You have made a very valid point. There may be a need for disaster preparedness."

There was a twinkle in Quinn's eyes whenever Beth was brought up. Rachel loved it. She loved being with Quinn inside a toy store. She had a feeling that a part of Quinn was simply using Beth as an excuse to spend time inside the F.A.O Schwarz. They spent time critiquing the appropriateness of Bratz for young girls and lamented over the fact that lego seems to target boys more than girls. Oh, and she now understood what Sudoku meant. It means single number in Japanese and it's been in existence since the 1980s. Then the whole debate about what color Gumby is happened. It was a heated one that needed to be settled by Google. They were both right and wrong. Rachel said blue, Quinn said green. Gumby was blue-green.

Quinn drove her back home a few hours later than expected simply because Rachel didn't want to end the day. She found ways to delay the inevitable. Quinn acquiesced. There was no way the blonde couldn't. Rachel took her to a store that specializes in First Editions. There was nothing in there that they could afford, not even the cheapest one, but it was fun staring at a 36,000-dollar first edition copy of an Ernest Hemingway book.

They made a pit stop to Bagel Bob's. Then sat down at Finley Walk.

"Hey", Rachel finally said after a few minutes of relaxed silence.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you"

Quinn smiled as she took her coffee and watch some boats pass through.


	24. Chapter 24

_Never before and never again_

_And you are not bound to find_

_A love like this again._

_I wanna show you the sunrise _

_Off the coast of Japan_

_I wanna tell you about me, _

_Let you know who I am_

_-Atlantic_

Rachel stood nervously at the lobby of Santana's apartment. She rocked her heels back and forth while the doorman spoke with the Latina through the intercom. "Ms. Berry?", the young doorman smiled. "You can go up."

"Thanks…" She took a quick glance at the boy's nameplate "…Robert. Have a good day"

"Have a good day to you, too."

Armed with her "Santana Lopez Cookies"—which is basically vegan chocolate chip but with had been Santana's favorite over the years—the diva was hoping to be able to bribe her way for a small favor. This is the first time they will see each other after the play and so the cookies may also mean a shield if ever the Latina decided to deck her nose as a "no" to her request.

She heard footsteps and so she readied her smile. "Santa—E..mily", Rachel said with a grin plastered on her face and subtly scanned the woman in front of her. Oversized shirt, boy shorts and messy hair. She felt her cheeks blush. Great timing, Rachel. Perfect, really.

"Rachel", the British woman husked and smiled while rubbing the back of her neck. "Come in. Santana's just in the, uh, bathroom."

The smaller brunette nodded then stepped inside. She took off her coat after the older woman offered to hang it. "Make yourself comfortable"

Funny. Rachel thought. She had been in this apartment so many times she _should_ be the one telling the other girl that. How presumptuous.

No. Stop disliking her. Rachel chastised herself. It's not Emily's fault she's perfect that even the singer checked her out. Rachel made a waving motion in front of her face to exorcise herself from evil thoughts.

"What the hell are you doing, Rachel?"

Oops.

The Latina made a vague gesture with her hand. "You know what, I don't want to know. Why are you here?"

The diva held the bag of cookie up and grinned widely. "Cookies?"

Santana frowned then waited for Emily to walk across towards the kitchen. "Santana Lopez cookies?", she mumbled.

"Of course."

The Latina looked at the other girl suspiciously before grabbing the bag. "What's this for?"

"I…have a favor to ask."

"So you're bribing me with cookies."

"Extra chocolate chip."

"You fight dirty."

"I know."

"Fine, let's go to the kitchen. I'm starving."

Rachel suppressed a huge smile. Progress. She quickened her steps until she's beside Santana. "I thought you can't handle someone like her?"

The feisty girl glared at her. "Yeah, well. Turns out she's not _that_ wild. It's just; your girl's too vanilla."

"Hey, Quinn's not that—" Rachel's eyes widened then blushed deeply. "She's not my girl."

Santana snorted. "Sure, whatever. Have a seat. Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you." Rachel sat down facing the couple who became busy preparing their breakfast. Emily was frying something while Santana made coffee.

"Eggs, Rachel?"

"Uh, no, babe. She's vegan", Santana said before Rachel could answer.

"Oh", Emily nodded. "Fruit bowl, then?"

"Uhm, thanks but I don't want to impose—"

"I insist", Emily looked at her and smiled before handing the spatula to Santana to take over while the older girl went about washing some fruits. This, without as much as a word between the two. Rachel noted that the couple was in sync. It didn't actually mean anything deep, except, well, it looked like even in a short period of time, they do this together often that it just seemed natural.

Rachel always had her breakfast already prepared by Quinn by the time she's done with her morning yoga exercises, and made their lunch in neatly packed bento boxes. The kitchen was basically Quinn Fabray zone except when Rachel bakes. And unless the blonde waited for her at NYADA during late-nighters, take-out wasn't necessary because she always went home to a nice home cooked vegan dinner.

"Berry", Santana snapped her fingers. "Please don't tell me you're fantasizing about Quinn"

"What? No", the diva frowned.

"Bull. You always have that dazed look when you're thinking about her.", Santana said harshly as she handed a mug filled with coffee to Rachel.

Rachel glanced at Emily who subtly nudged her girlfriend as if silently telling the Latina to be nice. Santana quirked her eyebrows then her facial expression visibly softened.

Oh, she did not just show how whipped she was in front of Rachel.

As if reading her mind—or maybe her facial expression gave it away—Santana smiled at her smugly and said "Em, can you get my cigarettes? I left it inside the bedroom"

"Sure", the tall brunette said after handing the fruit bowl to Rachel, and immediately walked away.

"That display of bossiness doesn't take out the fact that you're whipped", Rachel defiantly smirked.

"You said you're asking for a _favor_?"

The diva immediately wiped the smirk off her face. "Right, yes. Well, I was hoping you would lend me your car."

Santana laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

The smaller girl shook her head.

"Why, on earth, would I lend you my car?"

"Because I want to take Quinn somewhere. And I don't want her to be the one driving."

"She's a safe driver, Rachel. What happened—"

"No, it's not that. She's driven me around already, and I know she's really conscious about safety now. I just, it kind of defeats the purpose of giving her a fun and relaxing time if she has to drive, don't you think?"

"Then just drive her car"

"She would think precisely what you're thinking, Santana. I know she would feel offended even if that wasn't even what I had in mind."

Santana narrowed her eyes at Rachel. "What's your angle, this time?"

Rachel sighed loudly. She's a bit tired repeating herself. "Nothing, I just want Quinn and I to be friends again."

"Rachel", Santana mumbled then looked towards the kitchen door. Seeing that Emily hasn't gone back, the Latina continued in a slightly hushed tone, "Quinn's rounded up the 9 circles of hell and she's _just_ recovering from—"

"I know..", Rachel nodded, closed her eyes and pressed her palms together as if praying for Santana to understand. "I know that, Santana. But she's slowly letting me back in. And I need to take this opportunity to make this right. I want to earn Quinn's forgiveness."

"You could have done that a _lot_ earlier. Why now? Finn dumped you?"

The diva closed her eyes and cowered a little at Santana's statement laced with bitterness. "No..", she replied softly. "I didn't..after Finn and I slept, I knew it was a mistake. A huge one. We didn't get back together."

"So what was he doing in New York?"

"He wanted to watch the play, Santana. I had no right to stop him."

"That's a load of shit, Rachel, and you know it. You invited Quinn and then Finn was also there? It was a good thing _my_ friend was starting to get back on track or she would have ended up a crying ball of mess, again."

"I tried, okay? I tried to stop Finn", Rachel bit back. "I did everything I could to discourage him. I _never_ invited him to see the play. _Never._" The diva let out a shaky breath. "I only wanted _Quinn_ to be there. It took a lot of begging for someone from the Chorus to reserve a front row center aisle seat but I _knew_ Quinn would have wanted to be sitting there because she promised me."

Santana sat back and blinked several times. "_You _got her that ticket?"

"Yes. But because I didn't know how to send it to Quinn—and well no offense, but I had a bad feeling you would've have thrown it away— I left it at the ticket center and just informed Quinn via text."

"And Finn?"

"When I found out that he already had a ticket to New York, I had no choice but to get him a seat with my dads. Look, I ended _everything_ with Finn the week he stayed here, except friendship. No romantic entanglements, no future possibilities, just. Friendship."

"So, why didn't you go back and tell Quinn about that right away? She thought you two were—"

"Because she looked _so_ happy, Santana. I couldn't..", Rachel sighed then shook her head, "I couldn't just come up to her and say, 'hey, I'm sorry for hurting you but everything's clear in my mind and heart now, it's you' and just go kiss and make up. Do you think that would have been fair to her?"

Santana frowned and didn't answer.

"I wanted to stay away from her because I've hurt her enough. I didn't want to face her until I'm fully prepared—emotionally— to take all the responsibility and make amends. It took awhile, I know that. I'm a scared, spineless, selfish brat. And I'm just learning to—"

"Alright, god.", Santana covered her ears. "It's too early in the morning for you to talk in paragraphs. How on earth did Quinn survive you for that long?"

Rachel smiled at a sudden realization. "I actually didn't ramble that much when we were together. She made me...laid-back"

"Does she know all of this? About Finn?"

The diva nodded weakly. "I told her last week."

"And?"

"And she twisted her lips and nodded."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Then we went to see a play."

"You guys have a weird way of dealing with things."

"I don't know exactly what she meant by that, but I guess since she's still talking to me…"

"I suppose. "

"So…does your lack of hostility now mean you're open to the idea of lending your car?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Why can't you just rent a car?"

"Because I'm saving up for a real nice Christmas gift for her so 125 dollars _minimum _fee that I would spend on a car can go a long way for something really special. And I well…because I kind of missed you, too", Rachel looked down and mumbled at the latter part of her answer while the corner of Santana's lips subtly quirked. "Come on, just for a whole day. I promise I'll take care of it."

"Where on earth are you taking her, anyway?"

"It's a surprise."

"I'm not Quinn."

"You'd tell her. You don't hide things from her."

"Fine. But I swear to god, Rachel. You hurt Quinn one more time, you better—"

"I'm _doing _the best I can, Santana. Trust me that losing Quinn again would be more painful than any form of torture you have in mind."

That seemed to have satisfied the Latina, at least on the surface. "Fine, you can borrow my car."

"Thank you, thank you", Rachel breathed out and clasped her hands together.

Santana went back to her room after she ate breakfast with Rachel and found Emily on her bed and watching the television.

"Couldn't find my cigarettes?", Santana smirked.

The taller woman laughed. "Something like that."

There was no need to explain. Santana knew Emily didn't come back because that she needed that talk with Rachel and the older woman's presence would have made things awkward for the diva. The Latina smiled then crawled back to bed, rested her head on Emily's stomach and grabbed the remote from the older girl's hand.

"Jersey Shore re-run. Really?", Emily chuckled while running her fingers along the Latina's scalp.

"Shhh. Just watch."

Rachel sat in Santana's car and stared at Quinn's new apartment building. Quinn agreed to this little outing a few days ago and she scrambled to get things done with Santana, thankfully, feeling a bit charitable. She wasn't invited in and was told by the blonde to just wait for her outside. Quinn was a very private person and perhaps felt that she wasn't ready to let the brunette in her life that way. Or she could just be overanalyzing Quinn's behavior. Either way, she was patiently waiting for the blonde. Checking the GPS one more time, she saw from the corner of her eye Quinn rush down and grin widely at as she made her way to the car.

"Sorry, did you wait long? I had to make some last minute wardrobe decisions.", the blonde said while hauling a knapsack at the back seat of the car before buckling up.

Rachel laughed then started the car. "Wardrobe decisions? You look nice in anything, Quinn."

"No, but I have no idea where we're going and the temperature most likely will drop later, so I just had to pack some extra layers for us. Just in case."

Rachel noted how Quinn included her in the decision-making but tried not to make a big deal about it. "We're just going upstate."

"Upstate? What's in there?"

"Beacon", Rachel nodded. "We're going to play tourists."

Quinn laughed. "That sounds awesome."

_Quinn lied down on her stomach and kicked her feet up. Propping her head with her elbow, she flipped through a book Rachel just got for her. It was a photo-journal book on backpacking and Quinn immediately loved it. Despite the blonde's affluent background, traveling was not a family interest. Or at least it wasn't her parents'. But Quinn always had an insatiable desire to explore, though only a handful of people would probably have guessed that. _

"_I want to take the Mekong River cruise.", the blonde mumbled while staring at the photo of river cruise boat in the Laotian area. "We'd be already covering at least three countries with that."_

"_We?", Rachel asked playfully. _

_Quinn turned her head around towards Rachel's direction. "I'm not traveling alone. What's the point in that when I don't get to share those amazing moments with you?"_

"_Yes, but…river cruise in the tropics. That may not be my kind of thing."_

_Quinn smiled sympathetically and nodded. "Okay, how about backpacking in Europe?"_

"_Ooh", Rachel said then laid down on her back next to Quinn. "Now, that's more of my style."_

"_I don't think backpacking will ever be your style"_

"_Yes, but Europe is. So I'm more than ready to travel in a less than convenient way with you if it's Europe"_

_Quinn nodded in agreement. She flipped through the pages and pointed at the Buckingham Palace photo. "First stop would be England. Then…Wales and Scotland. Then we go to Ireland."_

"_Backpacking our way to the British Isles. Interesting."_

_The blonde sat up and hovered on top of Rachel. "Yeah, we'd stay in those cobblestone houses or bed and breakfast", she said before leaning down for a kiss. _

"_No fancy hotel, Miss Fabray?", Rachel mumbled against Quinn's lips. _

"_I like the idea that if and when I get to travel, I want to be part of the local culture. Hotels, for me, just…don't feel natural"_

"_Yeah, I get what you mean."_

"_So, we'll go to England together?"_

"_We'll see the world together, Quinn."_

"_Except Mekong River"_

"_Yeah, except that"_

The travel time from New York City to Beacon was approximately 2 hours so Rachel decided to start early. Quinn was a good sport by agreeing to leave the city by around six a.m in the dead of winter. "Hey, that's my playlist", Quinn chuckled when she turned on the music player in Santana's car.

"Yup", Rachel nodded while keeping her eye on the road. "I happen to like some of your weird stuff."

"Aw, Little Dragon is hardly weird."

"When you grow up listening to American show tunes, anything that's Swedish sounds weird." Rachel smirked. "If you want coffee or sandwich, just grab it from the back."

Quinn smiled widely at the sight of a huge picnic basket she failed to notice earlier. "You brought food!", she exclaimed while reaching for a thermos that peeped out of the basket. The blonde moaned at the smell of roasted coffee.

Rachel pursed her lips and gripped the wheel at the obscene sounds the blonde was making.

Sniffing one more time, Quinn sighed contently then carefully poured some on a paper cup. She slowly opened the car console cup holder and placed the coffee down. "That's for you and…this is for me", she mumbled after filling up another. "Thanks for doing this."

"The coffee?"

"No, well, that too. I meant this whole day trip. I've been far too immersed in the Bronx area, I've forgotten that there's a world out there that still exists.", she chuckled softly.

Rachel breathed deeply and smiled. "I have flashes of brilliance every now and then."

And boy did she feel like a Mensa member that day. She had everything planned out according to what she believed to be of Quinn's interest. Well, the whole town had Quinn written all over it. It took hours of research for Rachel just to decide where to go and a few more to map out their destination points that can be jam-packed in one day.

First stop was the Dia, a huge museum, which used to be a factory, dedicated for modern art installations and paintings. Then Rachel took Quinn to Madam Brett Homestead which was basically an 18th century historical home. Then time for some shopping at the Clay Wood & Cotton for handmade crafts and art prints. It's like watching a kid enter a candy store the way Quinn's eyes lit up.

And it felt really warm the way Quinn laughed her way at Rachel's attempts at being a tour guide despite the fact that that was also her first time in the area. Google-powered tourism through the brunette's smartphone.

Final stop in the afternoon was the Blue Sky Balloon. Rachel truthfully dreaded it because, well, winter and they'll be riding a hot air balloon. Those two didn't seem like a good combination. But this was for Quinn. So if it meant looking and feeling like a penguin with a frozen ass, she'll take it.

She received the confirmation call earlier that cleared the weather for a safe travel. Rachel reserved a small balloon exclusive for two people. This was the Christmas gift she told Santana about because, dear Barbra, a six hundred dollar trip over the Hudson Valley was not cheap for any college student dependent on her fathers' money.

You know what Mastercard says? It's damn. True.

Priceless. The look on Quinn's face—from the lift off all the way to their landing— was something money can never buy.

When they said the balloon was exclusive for two, Rachel did not reckon how intimate the space would be. She worried every time their bodies bumped into each other but Quinn made no sign of discomfort over their proximity. And when she actually shivered from the cold, the taller girl stood behind her and wrapped warm arms around.

It's cool. Everything's under control. Friends do this _all_ the time.

Then the blonde rested her chin on the brunette's shoulder. "Is this okay?", Quinn whispered near Rachel's ear.

Okay? It's not okay. Because the brunette mustered all self-control not to turn around and kiss Quinn like it's the last thing she will do on earth.

"Yes", Rachel croaked. "it's okay by me. Are you…okay with this?"

She felt the blonde's head bob a bit. "Yeah."

Well, then. She can live in godforsaken Antarctica if it meant being held like this by her _friend _Quinn.

The blonde marveled at the view of the valley. "This is so beautiful. Thank you"

Rachel swallowed and kept her eyes firmly focused on the setting sun. "Consider it my early Christmas gift."

"You're not going home to Lima?"

"I am…but that doesn't mean I can't give your gift right now."

She felt Quinn smile when the blonde's cheek touched her neck. "Okay, thank you again."

"Are you? Spending Christmas in Lima, I mean."

"Yeah. I promised my mom I'll be home this year."

Rachel closed her eyes at the feel of Quinn's warm breath and strong arms. She slowly leaned against the blonde and let go of her fears; this earned her a tighter embrace. "How is she?"

"Doing well. I went home last summer just to see her."

"Oh?", the brunette said with her eyes still closed.

"We talked. Like, really talked for the first time. She's finally getting around to accepting my sexuality."

"Which is?", Rachel chuckled.

"Baconsexual"

Rachel cackled and playfully slapped Quinn's arm. "Must have been hard for her to understand and accept."

The blonde sighed. "It was. But I guess deep down she knew that this won't change. This is who I am. Things ended well."

"And your dad?"

"I've not…It's harder to for him to accept this. Baby steps, right?"

"Mhm…baby steps."

A/N: Don't listen to Rachel Berry. Take the Mekong River cruise. It'll change your life, I promise.


	25. Chapter 25

_So tell me there's nothing in the world _

_That could ever come between us_

_Show me you're not afraid tonight_

_Baby, make me believe_

_-Nothing in the world_

"Britts, no, seriously. Her name is not Britt, too. Her name is Emily. She's British.", Santana laughed with her hands raised in front of her chest. "Quinn! You bitch! This is your fault!"

Quinn hid herself behind Puck and laughed loudly with her forehead resting against his back. "I didn't do _anything_!"

"Yes, you did. You told me she's Britt. And all the while I _thought_ her name was also Britt! So when I called up Santana's apartment and she was the one who answered, I said 'hey Brittany number two!" and she just chuckled and told me she stepped out for awhile." , Brittany nodded solemnly with a pout.

Santana looked half horrified, half amused. "You called her Brittany number two?"

"I thought it _was_ funny", Quinn said with her head peeping through Puck's shoulder, who just kept shaking his head in amusement.

"So, where's Brittany junior? Why isn't she here?"

"Oh my god, Britts. Don't call her that. That makes things so weird." Santana was at the point of clutching her stomach. "She's…she's in England", the Latina said in between fits of giggles. "with her family."

"Yeah, because she's, you know, Brit!", Quinn interjected in between her own chuckles.

"Shut up, Q!"

"You can't make me, S!"

Brittany looked to Puck who just shrugged. "These two, how much have vodka did they have so far?"

"I have no idea", the Jewish boy chuckled.

Quinn was tipsy, Rachel noted while she sat in between Mike and Tina, silently observing the blonde's demeanor. She wasn't flirting with Puck, but Rachel still felt wary. Puck made it very clear in the past that he definitely still had feelings for Quinn and the brunette didn't want the blonde to end up in a very familiar scenario that involved wine coolers, insecurities and opportunism.

She saw Finn glance at her from the opposite side of the Lopez's living room with Sam and Artie and raised his glass of wine at her. She reciprocated the action. Both snapped towards the direction of the Unholy Trinity when they heard Quinn squeal while being carried by Puck towards the couch and plopped her in between Santana and Brittany.

The Latina gave him a high five before he walked away and grabbed another beer then headed towards the boys' direction.

Finn looked back at Rachel and gave quirked his eyebrows.

Good question, Finn. Good question.

And the answer is, she had no idea.

It's as if Quinn didn't know her at all.

After that wonderful trip to Beacon, Quinn once again dropped out of Rachel's radar, limiting their interaction to a few texts a day. This confused the diva. She thought they were making progress. She thought _she _was making progress with Quinn.

It got worse in Lima. Quinn didn't even try to contact her until they saw each other here at Santana's home for the annual Glee get together. What happened next hurt Rachel the most: Quinn gave her a shy smile, mumbled happy holidays and walked straight towards the buffet table.

She promised to do everything she can to make amends. That didn't mean she could just keep taking well-deserved blows without respite. She needed to back off for the night. Quinn was having fun and the last thing she wanted was to ruin it by pulling the blonde away and inquire what happened that changed everything again.

She avoided talking to Finn all night out of respect for Quinn. And while she enjoyed Tina, Mike and Mercedes' company, she was starting to be a dull companion with very little participation in the conversation. She didn't want to be the girl who ruined people's festive mood, so she thought of excusing herself.

Rachel was in the midst of another stealth-mode escape when Santana noticed her and called out. "And where do you think you're going, Broadway?"

Well, so much for a Ninja-esque flight. She felt everyone's attention snap towards her direction. Including Quinn whose eyebrows were furrowed.

Rachel's eyes were wide, and her guilty expression was probably apparent. "I, uhm, I'm not feeling well. Splitting headache.", she nodded sagely.

The Latina stood up. "I've got medicine for that. Follow me"

"Thanks, but I would really like to rest. I—" Rachel sighed when Santana glared at her and wiggled her finger, motioning the smaller brunette to follow her.

"Have you taken any alcoholic drink yet?"

"No"

"Good." Santana handed Rachel a medicine bottle that she took out from the bathroom. "Take two right away. That should make your headache go away."

Rachel nodded. "Thanks"

"Since you're not planning on drinking, can you make sure Quinn gets home safe?"

"I'm not sure if—"

"Yes or no. She can sleep here if you can't drive her back."

"It's best that she stays here."

The Latina raised her eyebrow but Rachel was equally determined not to deal with Quinn's behavior, especially tonight's, so she stared back defiantly without (she hoped) an ounce of emotion present.

"Alright", Santana nodded then left Rachel at the kitchen.

She was left with a bottle of medicine she has no use for. Chewing her lip, she stared at the label and shook her head.

"Are you alright?"

Rachel looked up. "Quinn. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Have you taken the meds already?"

"Yes"

Quinn's eyes were everywhere except the brunette. "Do you want to lie down for a bit? I can ask Santana to—"

"No, it's alright. Thank you, but I'll feel better in awhile.", Rachel said with a small smile. She slowly walked and tried to pass through Quinn when she felt the blonde's hand gently hold her wrist. "I can lie down with you", the blonde smirked as she leaned closer and tucked some strand of hair under Rachel's ear.

The diva furrowed her brows at the smell of alcohol on the other girl's breath. "It's okay, Quinn. Let's just go back inside." She tried to leave, once again, when the diva felt Quinn's arms wrap around her waist from the back.

"Quinn", Rachel breathed out while lightly trying to pry herself free. The diva felt Quinn's lips move dangerously close to her ear and whispered, "You don't understand, Rach. I _want_ to lay down in bed with you"

Okay, enough being gently. She pushed down Quinn's hands and turned around. "Quinn, you're drunk."

The blonde scoffed and gave her a cocky smile. "I'm not. I promise I'll remember everything tomorrow", she said with a wink.

The singer pressed her lips together and looked away. "We can't, Quinn."

The blonde's jaw tensed. "Why not?"

"Because we're trying to be friends?"

The taller girl stepped forward and held Rachel's hips. "We can be friends and you know, have fun"

"I'm not the new Emily, or any other casual encounters you've had so far, Quinn."

Quinn scowled then glared at Rachel. "No, you're not. They were a lot more honest with me than you've ever been.", she snapped.

The brunette's breath hitched.

Quinn instantly sobered up.

Rachel closed her eyes and started counting in her head. "Quinn, I don't want to ruin the night for you, so if you could just please let me get back inside… that would be most ideal for both of us."

"Rachel..", Quinn swallowed. "I didn't—"

"It's fine, Quinn", Rachel quirked the corner of her lips upwards then touched the taller girl's arm before returning to the table with her original company.

Quinn walked back in the room, with a mixture of trepidation and guilt written all over her face. She gazed at Rachel's direction but the brunette's focus was firmly focused on Tina, occasionally nodding and chuckling softly.

She sulked on the couch next to Santana who kept giving her a curious glance. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing", Quinn mumbled while rubbing her forehead.

"Whatever screw up you did this time, fix it and stop moping next to me. It's annoying to say the least."

"What makes you think I did something?"

"Q, really? You're asking me? She didn't even want to drive you back home. For someone who had been scrambling to receive your absolution, she sure wasn't too enthusiastic about doing you a favor."

Quinn looked away and sighed.

"I'm seriously tired of being the referee and spectator in this epic ping-pong match you have with her."

The blonde nodded then pushed herself to stand up. She staggered towards the table where Rachel was sitting and forced at smile at everyone else. "Rach, can we..", she raised her arm and pointed to the stairs using her thumb.

Mike smirked then Mercedes cleared her throat. "Quinn, subtlety is still in fashion, you know?", she giggled.

Quinn's eyes widened. "Oh, no. Nothing like that." , she nervously chuckled. She glanced at Rachel hoping that the other girl would understand and follow her without much resistance. "I just, uhm, Rach?"

The brunette furrowed her brows but nodded then stood up, allowing Quinn to guide them upstairs. She didn't say a word until they have reached the second floor. She slightly twisted her arm as a signal for the blonde to let go of her wrist and took a step back. "Quinn, I told you—"

"We're not—I'm not", the blonde shook her head and looked at the other girl apologetically.

"Then why are we here?"

"Because we need to talk."

Rachel breathed deeply. "Okay, lead the way."

Quinn's heart ached at the brunette's morose expression and resigned tone. "Uhm, here, Santana's room." She stopped walking and looked back at Rachel who kept still in her position. "I promise, it's not what you think.", she mumbled with pleading eyes.

The blonde opened the door and led Rachel in. The diva didn't have time to survey the new environment because Quinn grabbed the comforter on the Latina's bed then lifted the huge double hung window. "It's nice out here. Come on. "

"Quinn, I don't think that's such a good idea.", Rachel said as she rushed to pull back the blonde whose upper body was already on the other side. "You've been drinking. You could fall. Stop that"

"Rachel, take a look, will you?"

The brunette hesitantly stepped forward and craned her neck. "Oh. An observation deck-like roof."

"Not much to observe, but yeah. No one's falling tonight.", the blonde said as she attempted to step out for the second time with success. She extended her hand back for Rachel to hold as the small diva followed and sat down next to the blonde who immediately wrapped them both with the comforter.

Quinn's body was like magnet to Rachel. She found herself leaning against the blonde and felt the other girl's arm drape around her shoulder.

It hurt. She couldn't understand why Quinn is being once again affectionate. Quinn isn't just her addiction, but also her source of affliction. It's akin to taking a drug that got you so high only to find yourself on withdrawal.

It hurt.

But it felt so good.

They were cuddled up for a few minutes, basking in each other's warmth before Quinn spoke up. "Rachel…I'm really sorry about earlier."

Rachel smiled despondently. "There's no need to apologize for saying the truth, Quinn. Although, I have been wondering what I've done wrong because you've just been avoiding me since our trip to Beacon. What did I do?"

"Nothing."

The brunette looked down and nodded. "Okay", she whispered.

Quinn stayed silent, expecting Rachel to say more. She frowned and felt confused at how Rachel just seemed to have accepted her answer as is. The old Rachel would have hounded her until she was satisfied in knowing that Quinn had opened up, albeit forcefully.

It felt new.

And it should have felt liberating.

But it just felt so wrong.

The blonde felt lumps forming on her throat which caused her to forcefully swallow. She still waited. But the longer she waited, the more she felt her throat constrict at Rachel's silence. "Please say something, Rach", she whispered desperately.

The brunette finally looked up and pressed her lips together. "I don't know what to tell you, Quinn. You said I didn't do anything wrong. Then I would have to accept that."

"Why?"

"Because no matter how much I'm hurting right now, it's nothing compared to what you've gone through because of me. I don't have the right to insist on anything."

"I'm so scared, Rachel. I thought I could just be nonchalant about everything. But when we were in Beacon, and you took up in that balloon, I just wanted to be so near you. And it scared me. I know I've been avoiding you. I don't have an excuse for ignoring you. I was wrong. It's just…I'm petrified with what my feelings can do."

"I know... That's why I let you run away from me whenever you want to and just", Rachel let out a shaky breath. "… wait whenever you're ready to come back. Like for the past couple of months."

"Is that how it's supposed to be?"

"I don't know, Quinn. I'm just trying to figure this out as much as you do. All I know is that I've hurt you so much and I don't want to hurt you anymore. I want to be there for you as a friend and—"

"Friend?" Quinn said desolately. "You've been saying that so many times already. Is that all you want out of this?"

"I thought it was the best I can give you without running the risk of hurting you anymore", Rachel whispered with her brows deeply furrowed. She chuckled dryly then wiped her eyes using her thumb. "But I guess, even with that, I just screw up badly, huh?"

"It wasn't _that_ bad, Rachel. It wasn't."

"Yes, it _was_, Quinn", she sobbed. "Maybe not for me, but..", she looked up and bit her lip with her eyes blinking rapidly. "You gave your everything to me, and what did I give in return?"

"I felt loved, Rachel."

"I _approximated_ love, Quinn. I was the best you've ever had given your parents and ex-boyfriends", Rachel said through gritted teeth. "You deserve better, it's just that you don't know it, yet."

The blonde felt a cold shiver run down her spine. It felt like they were back to square one. Or a step higher. Friends. She could barely the time when they were just friends.

Simply because that stage was never really there in its purest form.

They were rivals. Team mates. By the time Quinn offered her hand for friendship, it was because she realized she was in love with Rachel, but there wasn't any chance of anything else.

She never wanted to be friends with Rachel Berry.

She still didn't.

That's why she had been running away. Rachel made her feel; the others allowed her to just escape.

She was still punishing Rachel for something the diva had no fault at all.

Because this wasn't about Finn anymore, or doubting whether the small brunette— crying in her arms that moment—loved her or not.

She was punishing Rachel for being Rachel.

"I don't want us to just be friends, Rach"

Quinn felt the diva's head nod and mumble a stifled "okay".

"Please, say something more than okay, Rachel. Am I forcing you again into this?"

Rachel violently shook her head then stared into hazel eyes. "You've never forced me into anything, Quinn. _Never._ I just…I don't know where to begin, anymore."

She knew where, at least for selfish reasons. So she had to ask. "How do you feel about me?"

The diva smiled softly. "It depends on what level you are referring to."

"What do you mean?"

"On the surface? I don't think I've ever gotten over my crush on your face. It's everything that is beautiful to me. Like..", the brunette said while touching Quinn's cheek. "..like how an 8th grader would feel when the object of their affection passes by and you can't just help but stare at her. And the more you stare at her, the prettier she becomes in your eyes."

Quinn pressed her lips together with her eyes firmly focused on the pattern of the comforter.

"On a more physical level, I'm not the most experienced person on the planet, but I've had my fair share of kisses. And I can say with so much certainty that you're the best kisser. Ever. I don't think I've ever told you that before. But you are."

The blonde looked up and stared at Rachel skeptically.

"I melt, Quinn. Because you just…I don't know exactly what it is you do with your tongue, but yes, it's..", Rachel paused then bit her lower lip in embarrassment. "I'm…uhm, moving on to another level."

Quinn nodded dumbly with her cheeks visibly red. "Yeah, okay."

"On a much deeper level, I sometimes feel conflicted because I get so insecure about my flaws especially when I compare myself to you. But at the same time, you're also the one that pacifies me. When you tell me I will make it, I believe you. It's taking me some time, but I'm getting there—to believe that I am beautiful in your eyes."

The blonde smiled a bit at this. "On the deepest?"

"On the deepest level, I feel that you would give me the world if I ask you to. You just make me feel so…loved, Quinn. I know the full realization happened too late, but please don't think I wasn't even vaguely aware of it before. I feel like my heart is about to explode with this strong desire to make you feel the same."

Quinn fought back the urge to smile widely. "So you sort of love me."

The diva moved her head from side to side. "Yeah…I guess you could say that."

"And I'm the best kisser? Ever?"

"And you choose to focus on that information."

"It's very important to me."

"Because?"

"Because…this." Quinn cupped the back of the brunette's neck, dipped her head a bit and kissed Rachel, slowly and tentatively at first until she felt the diva recover from the shock and started kissing her back.

A/N:

**TeirAnazazi**- spam all you want. It's the closest thing I get to a conversation with the readers of this fic. :-)

Of course we are nearing the end. A few more chapters and we can close this book :-)


	26. Chapter 26

_Oh you lift me up to the crucial top, so I can see_

_Oh you lead me on, till the feelings come _

_And the lights that shine on_

_But if that don't mean nothing_

_Like if someday it should fall through_

_You'll take me home where the magic's from_

_And I'll be with you_

_-Alive and Kicking_

Bless you, Emily.

That was her fleeting thought.

Using her wrists for support while bent over at Quinn's apartment bay window, Rachel saw stars the moment she felt two slender fingers enter her from behind. She felt the other hand slither upwards from her abdomen to her left breast and cupped it for leverage.

Quinn was in the zone and in control like nothing Rachel had ever encountered before.

It wasn't vanilla.

It was more like a modern version of Aztec chocolate.

With all the goddamn spices.

And Rachel is drinking it to the last drop.

Ah, yes. Bless all of you anonymous girls.

Another fleeting thought the moment she was turned around and heaved on the window cushion. The brunette hooked her legs around Quinn's hips to pull the blonde closer until their faces were mere centimeters apart. There was something very erotic about keeping eye contact while the blonde's fingers trace along the diva's wet slit several times, teasing and building up the anticipation once more.

"Quinn", the brunette mumbled. It was the only thing Rachel could say, and the only thing that mattered to the taller girl.

"Quinn", the brunette gasped again, then moaned when the blonde started massaging her clit between her thumb and finger.

"Quinn", she panted when she felt two, no, three fingers taunt the entrance of her wet core.

Third time's a charm.

There's that lopsided smirk that told her to get ready. She held her breath, clenched her fists and parted her legs as wide as she could.

Rachel's more than a year of celibacy ended that day. It also marked the first time in almost a year and a half of not being with Quinn in an intimate manner. She felt nothing short of being a dormant volcano that suddenly erupted.

It wasn't _really_ sudden though. As in volcanic activities, there were ominous rumblings, minor spewing of lava and smoke as nature's warning for a cataclysmic event. Only this wasn't dreadful.

This was something both wanted and part of what they needed.

The Glee reunion reignited the spark. But they left Ohio still uncertain of how they were going to push through the doubts and reservations that hung over their heads. On a more positive note, at least Rachel was now sure they were on the same page. No exploring other options, and by that they meant other people. Santana called it bullshit—complicating matters by keeping things "undefined" when it was obvious as day that they can't stand being apart from each other.

Maybe so, but both weren't keen on the pressure of creating an artificial setting for them again. There was certainly no talk about a particular blonde moving back in Upper East Side. Bronx was Quinn's natural habitat and the brunette loved that her not-really-girlfriend-as-of-the-moment found her place in New York. She can't whine or wish for anything better because she might just piss God off and convince Quinn to move somewhere else. Like Japan or Costa Rica.

If for anything, the commute from Manhattan to Bronx made Rachel fully appreciate what Finn said about Quinn. It _was_ a special kind of love. She wasn't even claustrophobic; yet when she emerged from the tunnel to visit Quinn, she felt an overwhelming relief that took over her whole being. Rush hour had always been a bitch.

That didn't matter though. Because Quinn introduced the brunette to her kids at the youth center as her special friend, and she witnessed how the blonde made an impact on somebody else's life beside her own. She was even more than thrilled as she was able to perform a couple of songs.

She was not, however, thrilled that she was introduced to someone who made moon-eyes at Quinn. She had to remind herself once more than she lost Quinn for more than a year. She would not have been able to keep track of Quinn's interactions.

Not that she would this time.

She's curbing her jealousy. Really.

One month into their "open-ended" relationship, Quinn agreed to go back to Rachel's apartment for a dinner. It was endearing to see the blonde surreptitiously check out the diva's pantry and refrigerator.

"I learned to take care of myself, Quinn", Rachel chuckled. "It's not all canned soup in there."

The blonde smiled bashfully and closed the pantry. "Just checking …you lost a lot of weight."

"That's not because I haven't been eating."

Quinn pressed her lips and smiled. "Come here."

Rachel obediently followed and took a few steps closer. "Is the worst really over?", she mumbled while hugging Quinn back.

"I think so"

"Well…that might change once you've tried what I made for dinner."

The food was delightful, contrary to Rachel's warning. The make-out session was lovelier. Rachel felt as if they were once again teenagers, curious about intimacy but scared of going deeper. Rachel immediately noticed a change in Quinn the moment their kisses became more heated. There wasn't a moment of dithering, then surrender or retreat that usually happened when Rachel became more aggressive. Instead, the blonde battled—challenged her—for dominance. It was different but the transformation was exhilarating. This was Head Cheerio Quinn Fabray as Rachel had always imagined.

Maybe Quinn had kept her uniform so they can use it later on.

Or they can find a new one. Can be generic. No big deal.

Did she just pin my wrists over my head? Oh god, she did. Why didn't she ever do this before?

The un-couple's new found courage to be handsy extended to full on public displays of affection that scandalized even the likes of Santana—champion of the right to kiss your girlfriend anywhere you want—to the point of literally dragging them apart.

And because they lived tragically far away from each other—Rachel's words, not Quinn's—they often found themselves teasing one another on the phone.

All those questions answerable by dirty words.

"What are you wearing?"

"A disgusted look on my face."

"Santana? What the hell are you doing in Quinn's apartment? And why are you answering her phone? Is she okay?"

"Chill, Berry. Your woman's heating up my casserole."

"…I beg your pardon?"

It wasn't all about rounding up the bases.

In fact, if you ask Quinn, she was proud of their self-restraint and keeping their priorities in place. Before they got really frisky, they started like any new couple would. Dating in its most basic form. In the three years they were together, they hardly went out on dates.

Quinn brought her once to Washington Heights on their first date, much to the diva's apprehension. It's one of those places that were in her permanent list of "do not venture out for any reason". The blonde kept reassuring her that the place had already been gentrified. They weren't there anyway to hang out at the 'hood.

The blonde took her to Fort Tryon Park and Rachel changed her mind about the place immediately. It used to be a real fort used during the American Revolution but now filled with gardens and flowers that made Central Park look dull and dry.

Then it was Rachel's turn. She asked Quinn to fulfill one promise that got lost a long time ago.

Rachel felt anxious when they entered the Peculier Pub at the Village. It was the first time she had gone out with her NYADA friends and with Quinn in tow; naturally so many people paid attention to the gorgeous blonde attached to her hip. There was no time for insecure and jealous Rachel to take over though, because the first thing Quinn did the moment they joined their intended company, was to stand behind her and possessively wrap her arms around the brunette. And thank Moses for a crowded night, the blonde took the only seat available, sat down and pulled Rachel to sit on her lap.

Talk about marking one's territory.

And she couldn't help but believe she was the most beautiful girl in the whole establishment. It was all that Quinn kept whispering in her ear all night.

You know what they say about lies repeated so many times; you start to think it's the truth? It was something like that.

This time, however, the way Quinn's voice gushed, or the way the blonde breathed deeply and intensely gazed at her, Rachel knew that it may not be true for other people, but it was for Quinn.

So, to hell with everyone else that night.

She was Quinn's shining star.

She was keenly aware the blonde wasn't entirely comfortable with her classmates and their pretentious snooty attitude towards popular arts and culture, or their general apathy towards intellectualism. She wasn't at all at ease with the bar scene, of course. Rachel tried to— hopefully—calm the nerves of her date in the best way she could think of.

And that didn't go unnoticed. Quinn appreciated the fact that Rachel didn't pressure her to join the conversation or put her on the spotlight, and just allow her to listen to them. This, while constantly rubbing the back of her palm and kissing her cheek every so often; asking if she's okay and cuddling up with her for the better part of the evening.

Yeah, it felt like they were new lovers. And there was a certain truth to that.

While Rachel was getting to know a new side of Quinn (or was it there all along, just hidden?) when they get a bit physical, it was a couple of months after they officially started dating that Quinn became extremely comfortable and took charge.

It was those little things that first drove Rachel nuts. The way Quinn would pay attention to certain spots on her neck and ears was enough to make the brunette's toes curl.

Quinn's past liaisons were the first source of their bickering (what? We're talking about Rachel and Quinn here. It'll never be as smooth as baby's skin). But both like to believe they handled the issue pretty well. It was an eye-opener. Rachel held high regard for the blonde. She was after all the poster child of celibacy. Girls grow into women, and to get from point A to B are a myriad of ways to define oneself. With all those experiences, Quinn had become confident but far from being arrogant. And that encouraged Rachel, instead of feeling inadequate.

She went head to head with Quinn.

Problem solved.

So, the restraint to take things slow, the undulated movements, and the sensual touches all produced one thrilling ride of sensory overload.

It was a cool March evening. Emily invited them for a dinner out and to say that the beginning was awkward was an understatement. It was hard for the diva to just erase the memory of Quinn's neck marked by the older woman. But Rachel understood how Emily had been a good friend to Quinn; and because the older woman was dating Santana, there was no way they could escape sharing space with Emily in the long run.

Rachel played with her table napkin, while Quinn and Santana spoke with their eyes, pushing each other to be the one to break the ice. Emily busied herself with the wine selection in the menu and wondered why, after all the good deeds she had done in her life, she was stuck with such juveniles. Hot and gorgeous. But extremely immature individuals. Maybe this was her punishment for grabbing Sister Tabitha's habit back in fifth grade.

Quinn took a glance at Rachel and knew what the brunette was going through. Things wouldn't be this awkward in the first place if not for her past trysts with Emily. She took Rachel's hand and squeezed it, cleared her throat and was the heroic sacrificial lamb. "So, Em. What's the occasion?"

"Yeah, what're we celebrating?", Santana asked curiously.

"You don't know?", the blonde chuckled. "What kind of girlfriend are you?"

Santana narrowed her eyes at Quinn. "The kind who has a life separate from her, unlike certain people whose names we shall hide as Rachel and Quinn."

"Oh, here we go again.", Rachel mumbled.

"Have they been this way since high school?", Emily asked Rachel directly while the two former Cheerios squabbled.

The smaller brunette nodded. "I'm afraid so. Well, no. They were a lot worse back then."

"How worse?"

"Like hallway fisticuffs"

"Oh. Wow."

"Yes, and well. They find themselves in a very odd situation right now where they aren't fighting for one thing. Not boys—or girls in this case—or reputation and position in the social ladder."

"So…they have to find something else to establish who's more dominant"

"Yes", Rachel genuinely smiled at Emily for what may have been the first time. "Who's the better girlfriend. Although", Rachel cleared her throat, "Excuse me, Miss Fabray?" , she said then poked Quinn's shoulder.

"I—yeah?"

"Are you my girlfriend?"

Quinn frowned. "Of course I am, what kind of a question is— oh. Uhm"

"Hah!", Santana laughed. "I thought it was…", she rolled her eyes and air quoted, "undefined." Clearly it's not. "

"_Anyway_", Emily interrupted before Quinn could explode for being cornered. "I just wanted to celebrate my victory over Layla's lawsuit."

"Oh, hey. That's amazing, babe", Santana grinned then pecked the other woman's lips.

Quinn smiled widely then turned to Rachel. "Layla is Emily's sister who can outbitch anyone in this table. She sued Em last year for inheritance issues."

"That's…tactless."

"Oh, please. You're nice, she's a woman without shame", Emily chuckled. "But anyway, I am just glad it's over. So there's no better way to commemorate this event than being with friends and by Santana treating us to dinner."

"Yeah", Santana nodded solemnly then furrowed her brows. "Wait, what?"

"What? You're an _amazing_ girlfriend, aren't you?", Emily chuckled then winked at Rachel who, in return, looked down and bit her lip to suppress a laugh.

"Of course. But I'm not the one who has like, a bajillion pounds in my bank account."

"I don't have a bajillion."

"Yeah, but you can at least afford to take Q to a five star hotel in London. Which, you have not done for me, by the way."

"All you need to do is ask."

"Well I'm asking."

"Then we're going. But you're still paying for this dinner."

Rachel tried to hold back the urge to cough "whipped" and was saved by Quinn from Santana's murderous tendencies. While the couple in front of them playfully argued, the blonde used the opportunity to kiss Rachel and whisper, "You want to go to England, too? We can do this after your graduation."

Rachel grinned. "British Isles backpacking?"

Quinn nodded then kissed the back of Rachel's hand. "No five star hotels."

"Just cobblestone houses and B&B's"

The dinner was a prelude to something greater. Rachel knew it because of how amazing it felt to be in the company of two of her best friends (if only Kurt wasn't too busy with his new boytoy, the night would have been complete). She glanced at Emily whose eyes stared at Santana with affection and tenderness. She breathed a sigh of relief.

One of the reasons why she hated seeing Quinn with the older woman—and this she would later divulge to Emily—is because when she looked at the blonde before, it wasn't fondness that Rachel observed, it was playfulness and amusement. She never liked the idea of anyone toying with Quinn's feelings, simply because the diva knew the most how horrible it felt for the blonde.

Because Rachel did just that.

She saw herself in Emily, albeit in a less direct way.

And she swore she would never do that to Quinn again no matter how their relationship would end.

Santana and Emily dropped off Quinn in her Bronx apartment, but before the blonde got out of the car, she took Rachel's hand and tugged it. "You don't need to pass by Upper East", Quinn smiled at Emily.

Rachel's mouth was left hanging for a few seconds and stared at Quinn for confirmation. Another tug and that's all she needed. She slid out of the backseat swiftly and thanked the other couple.

"Quinn" Rachel gently touched the blonde's arm after they reached the apartment door. "Are you sure about this?"

"You don't want this?", Quinn asked quietly. "I'm sorry, I just thought—"

Rachel placed a finger over the blonde's mouth. "I do", she breathed out and smiled. "I've wanted this for a long time with you. I just want to be sure that we're on the same page."

"Yeah we are", Quinn husked with an expectant look.

Rachel nodded then took the blonde's hand. "I love you"

"I love you, too"

"Are we…are you…would you like to be my girlfriend?"

"Yeah…Yeah I would love to."

It was supposed to be gentle. A night full of promise and show of devotion.

But there was nothing tender about their first time in a long while. All the lust, sexual frustrations and perhaps even residues of anger and hurt collided right at the moment when Quinn's hands glided dangerously close to Rachel's ass.

The taller girl would maybe have to deal with potential neighbor complaints of banging walls in the midnight hour.

Sucks to be them.

Awesome to be Quinn.

Not too good for clothing expenses.

Because, oops, there goes the buttons off the blonde's top.

They were naked before they reached the living room; had gone over twice before the bedroom.

Quinn had not made this intentional.

It was in fact Rachel that pointed it out later on.

There was some poetic justice to Rachel calling out Quinn's name over and over while being taken on a window overlooking Hudson River.

Ah, the games they play. The many ways to express one's hold over the other.

The blonde was bruised. From her neck down to the underside of her breasts and several more on her inner thighs. There was no way to hide it given her skin tone. And there was no stopping Rachel from topping Quinn and taste every inch of the taller girl's body.

Most importantly, there was no stopping the diva from making the whole world know this woman beneath her, writhing and moaning in pleasure was hers and only hers.

The heat will die down and the passion will subside.

They might even go back to wholesome Quinn and Rachel the next day.

But that night?

That night was all about possession.

A/N: It ain't the end, it ain't the ding-dong end. A couple of more to go, I suppose. Drop me a line. Love you all.


	27. Chapter 27

_Oh baby if you find, I'm not the loving kind_

_I'll buy you flowers, I'll pour you wine_

_Do anything to change your mind, I know_

_You may be disinclined_

_To find the love we've left behind_

_So kiss me and make up your mind_

_Am I not the loving kind?_

_-The Loving Kind_

Rachel was in a funky mood; that much Quinn can detect. The blonde had a slight idea why but felt mischievous enough to play this game with Rachel of who breaks first.

Someone's getting antsy about their set-up.

Without really much of an agreement, Quinn stayed in Rachel's apartment for a few nights in a week, since she's the one who's more mobile. A couple of days were fine for the blonde, but she's not yet willing to give up her own apartment and move back to Manhattan. If she's being honest to herself, she may never be fully willing to give up her own place because, she still has a year to go for her undergraduate degree and if plans go well, then a graduate degree. She had built a life in that community already, and it will be hard for her to let it go.

But of course, she braced herself for another uprooting since she knew herself very much that she can't really say no to Rachel. It's a broken vinyl record that kept playing the same verse. End of the day, she would find happiness wherever it would be as long as Rachel's there.

The brunette had used every reason to make Quinn stay.

It's after midnight, she said.

It's not safe to drive given the rain, she said.

She still wants another round. _Well._

It was a looming issue that both are trying to delay discussing.

Rachel's about to graduate and her life will revolve around the Broadway area (as if it's not yet). She would be auditioning like a maniac. Manhattan would most certainly be her world for the next…forever.

This will be the first real test of their reestablished relationship and Quinn had been dreading it. On one hand, she knew that both of them have matured in so many ways; but on the other hand, it's so easy to fall back into old issues and recycle them as an excuse to meet present issues full on.

That's what her therapist said.

Quinn sighed heavily while mulling over her session for the day. They talked about Rachel. For one whole hour. What it all meant now that they are giving it one more try. The blonde would like to believe that she's made a lot of progress detaching herself in a fairly healthy manner from the diva. She bordered on having an addictive personality; that of which had been established early on by her shrink so they have pretty much gone through a cognitive behavioral therapy. While there was no prima facie scientific evidence, her alcoholic parents may have contributed to her predisposition to this disorder. She was one step closer to codependency and it was certainly a good thing that intervention happened early on. So instead of it becoming a full blown problem, she just needed to be hyper vigilant of signs that she was falling back into old habits and address it early on.

Thus, the question of cohabitation would certainly challenge her resolve and ability to strike a balance between being her own person and maintain a functioning romantic relationship with Rachel.

Easier said than done when she truly feels that Rachel is larger than life; that she found herself mostly content being the diva's support system. Was she ready to take on that role again?

With her brows knitted together and immersed in self-analysis, she barely noticed her girlfriend calling out her name and literally ran into her when she fully stopped and turned around. "Woah", the blonde laughed as she held the small diva tightly. "How did you know I would be here?"

"I didn't. I met up with an agent a block away. And then while walking here, I saw the most stunning woman pass by", she grinned and touched the blonde's nose. "I just had to follow her, you know."

"I see", Quinn nodded then looked around. "Where is she?"

"Ha ha. You know I meant you."

"I know. I'm trying to dodge your charm."

"Now, why would you do that?"

"Well, as you can clearly notice, we are currently blocking people's paths by you hanging on me like a koala high on eucalyptus, making you the most adorable girl in the planet. So, five more seconds of this, I would have to kiss you and we might just be charged for public scandal."

This caused Rachel to tighten her hug. "Countdown starts now."

Quinn chuckled then reached for the brunette's hand to pry herself free, then walked hand in hand. "Come on. I'm taking you home."

"I love that you don't ask if I have somewhere else to go tonight."

"If you had somewhere else to go, you would have told me earlier through text or a phone call. Or just tell me right now, instead of playing coy."

"I also love how observant you are about my habits."

"I just love you."

"I love you, too."

"Which home, by the way?"

"Bronx"

The blonde stared at Rachel affectionately for a few seconds before them getting in the car. "You seem to like my apartment a lot."

"What's not to like? You live there, and the neighborhood's really nice."

"No, just, I don't want that you're just forced to be there because I'm there."

"Quinn, you gave me a choice about a minute ago. _I _made my choice.", Rachel smiled.

_And if I ask you to move in with me, would you make that choice? _

That question kept bouncing inside Quinn's head on the way back to her apartment. The silence was beginning to worry Rachel. It mostly never meant a good thing.

"So, I haven't heard much from Santana lately"

"She's a bit busy apartment hunting with Emily"

"Oh? They're…they're moving in together?"

"Yup"

"Well…that's nice. They're really good for each other, huh?"

"Definitely. I'm surprised it's taken them this long to make that big move."

"They probably just wanted to make things sure."

"Don't tell Santana I told you, but she's the one who's been broody."

"Really? Wow. Santana and domesticity. That's not an easy thing to imagine."

Quinn made a sound of agreement then fell back into a pensive mode.

Clearing her throat, Rachel quietly asked, "So, uhm, you went to see your therapist?"

"Yeah", the blonde nodded several times.

Silence. Is not golden.

"So...how was it?"

"Same old"

"Which means, what exactly?"

Quinn chuckled. "Rach, I'm not discussing what I talked about with my therapist."

"Why not? You told me before about sessions before regarding your pare—oh. You talked about me, didn't you?"

The blonde opened her mouth then pressed her lips into a smile. "Sort of"

"What's the verdict?"

"What do you mean?"

"Am I a roadblock to your holistic development?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Rach. You're not a roadblock to anything, most especially in relation to me."

"I wish it's that easy to—"

"Stop that" Quinn frowned and sighed. "You're good to me, okay? That's not a point of discussion." She turned to face Rachel after parking her car. "Look, I can pretty much recall the few times I've ever felt so happy in my life. One, is when I gave birth to Beth, two, the first time I saw her when Shelby came back, three, the first time you kissed me, four, when you brought me to Beacon", she paused, ducked her head and searched for Rachel's eyes. "Five when we kissed again last holiday break and six, when we spent the night together for the first time right here."

Rachel gazed into the blonde's hazel eyes. "You basically skipped the three years we spent together, Quinn."

"Rachel, we both—"

"I can give you more than six in those three years." the brunette mumbled sadly. "I know it may be hard for you to—"

"I believe you, actually", Quinn smiled. "And I'm not saying I _didn't_ feel happy at all in those three years. I did. I know you cared about me, Rachel, and I felt it. I was just…too preoccupied with letting my insecurities run amok. I recognize now that most of the things that happened shouldn't have happened because we failed to communicate properly. Well, mostly because I do it the Fabray way."

"But—"

"_But_ this was what I was trying to point out. You have to realize that in those six moments I consider highlights of my young life, four of them involved you. That's how much you mean to me, Rachel. That's how much you make me happy. Why should I ever consider you an obstruction to my well-being?"

Rachel let out a shaky breath and nodded.

"I don't really want to talk to you about my conversation with my therapist. But this I can say much. And you have to listen to me, okay?"

"I have a lot of things I need to work on. It may be for a few years, or a lifetime.", she held up a finger to stop Rachel from talking, "And I promise you I will do the best I can. But I also need to know if you'd be willing to stand by me and work things through. Because while majority of my…issues stem from other things, my relationship with you is undeniably part of it and had been a manifestation of it."

"Okay", the brunette mumbled. "I'm more than willing. Do I need to also see your therapist? Maybe like a group session? I'm open to it."

"No", Quinn smiled and shook her head. "That's not necessary. Like I said, while you are part of it, you don't really constitute majority of where my points of concern are as far as my therapist is concerned."

"So…basically, I just need to be a loving, understanding, supportive and patient girlfriend."

"Nothing basic about that", the blonde chuckled. "That's actually a tall order."

"Will you promise to do the same?"

"Yes"

"Then I see no reason why it would be hard."

"Because you have me as your girlfriend."

"And you have _me_ as your girlfriend."

"I get your point." Quinn chuckled before tracing Rachel's lips. "Listen…I'm not, sweeping things under the rug again. I really mean what I said. You're good to me _and_ for me. This? This is the happiest I've been."

"We have a lot to work on."

"That's obvious", Quinn smiled. "but try not to play therapist. You're my girlfriend, and I expect you to be like one. Try not to overanalyze me, and my silence. That doesn't equate to distance. That just means I'm thinking about something."

"I want to know your thoughts, Quinn. I can't keep guessing."

"Sometimes, I just need to actually process things clearly first before I tell you. That's all. You just keep pushing me. Don't stop, okay?"

Rachel furrowed her brows. "You like it when I push you to talk?"

"Well", the blonde drawled out. "Not exactly like. But I know I need it."

"Noted, Miss Fabray. Anything else you expect me to do?"

Quinn breathed deeply and exhaled. "Honesty… and devotion. I'm learning to trust you again completely and…and I don't think I can take it again if you…", Quinn pushed her lip in between her teeth, "you know. You'd have to tell me if you're not happy anymore with me, or you want to be with someone else. I much rather I let you go, than for us play charades again."

Rachel closed her eyes and nodded before leaning over the console and hugging the blonde tightly. "I promise. I promise I'll do that. Honesty and devotion. You have me, Quinn. You have all of me now. And I don't want to be anywhere else or be with anyone else, except you."

"And stop thinking I slept with half of New York's finest lesbians."

The brunette laughed and playfully slapped Quinn's shoulder. "I said half of them would want to sleep with you. Stop twisting my words."

"I've been with five, Rachel.", Quinn finally revealed. "I don't really like comparing..but…I guess that's the thing. No one can compare to you. You completely unhinge me", the blonde ended with a blush slowly taking over her cheeks. "Eventually, I just stopped trying. It was a futile effort."

Bashful Quinn decided to show up.

For about five seconds.

There has to be a penalty when the biggest metaphorical cockblock is your own girlfriend. Quinn was hoping to get a replay of their epic tryst so she began to kiss Rachel at the hallway and felt victorious when she managed to hover on top of Rachel in her bed for a record ten minutes, tops. They were getting good at this.

That's when she noticed how restless the diva was.

Here's something you need to know about Rachel. When she clears her throat several times in the middle of foreplay, there are no options. You need to stop whatever you're doing, endure the pain and listen to what she has to say.

Now, here's something you need to know about Quinn. She doesn't like being interrupted. And it's about time she shows it.

Ignore switch, on. Let the battle begin.

"You're so hot, Rach", she husked lowly before kissing the sensitive spot on Rachel's neck and reach lower.

The brunette arched her back but placed her hands on Quinn's shoulders and gave a gentle push. "Quinn, we need to—oh, that feels so good"

Quinn -1

Rachel-0

Another push from the brunette. Another flick of the hand from the blonde.

"Oh god… Quinn"

Quinn-2

Rachel-0

"Quinn, we need to—"

An intense kiss and a gentle rock to against her thigh let her feel how wet you are.

Quinn, three. Rachel, ze—

"Lucy Quinn Fabray!"

Four.

Berry for the win.

Because nothing can make Quinn stop at anything except when she is called the way her mother used to do when she's in trouble.

"Rachel", Quinn whined with her forehead resting on Rachel's shoulder and her hand slowly retreating. "Why do you hate me?"

"Don't be silly. I love you very much."

"Then why? I should be doing this", she griped as she cupped the diva's center.

"Because", Rachel gasped then whimpered. "Because I need to talk to you—", Rachel bit her lip and writhed at Quinn's touch. "—about something very—damn it, Quinn. Stop—mmm", she moaned then huffed, "Baby, just fifteen minutes. Please"

Groaning dramatically to emphasize the torture, Quinn gradually let go and gripped a pillow as she rolled to Rachel's side. "This better be so important."

"It is.", Rachel smiled sweetly and smoothed the creases on her girlfriend's forehead. "And I want it out of the way so we can fully enjoy our activities for the night."

"Why can't it be that we practice unbridled passion the whole night and then talk about whatever it is tomorrow?"

"Because we're used to thinking that way and we end up forgetting about the talking part. Like what you said earlier. Look", Rachel scooted closer and kissed the blonde's lips. "I absolutely appreciate this sexually confident Quinn and I plan to abuse that my whole life. Just please, I need to talk to you about this."

"Okay", Quinn sighed then stuffed a pillow in between them.

"Seriously?", Rachel laughed.

The taller girl nodded somberly. "Seriously"

"Fine", Rachel giggled then stared intensely at her girlfriend. "So, what I mentioned earlier. I met up with an agent who was recommended by one of our acting mentors at NYADA. I'm about to graduate and so, parental financial support won't come often, so while waiting for theater work, I could, you know, maybe land TV work", she smiled shyly, "like be one of the victims in Law and Order SVU."

Quinn nodded in understanding and smiled back. Not that she'd be thrilled to see Rachel pretend to be dead, but hey, an acting gig is an acting gig. Plus that Olivia Benson girl was _still_ hot, so maybe Rachel can get a photo and an autograph.

"And with the cost of living expense…renting a place in Upper East alone is not cheap."

Oh.

This is it.

"So…I was wondering…I mean, I know the commute is terrible.."

Yes, it is. I hate the subway, Rachel. I really do.

"And it's difficult to just change locations when we've built our lives on a particular neighborhood"

Yes. I have a community here, Rachel. I actually know the people around here.

"But I was hoping…you'd let me move in with you."

Come again?

"You'd move in. Here. In Bronx.", Quinn said in a disbelieving tone.

Rachel worried her lip and nodded. "I would really understand if you think it's not a good idea or that we're doing things fast again. But—"

"No, I don't think it's a bad idea, Rach. I like it, actually.", the blonde smiled and took the diva's hand. "I'm just…really? Here in Bronx?"

"There's nothing wrong with this area."

"Of course. I just meant, your work will be in Broadway."

"There are probably thousands of people who work in Manhattan but go live elsewhere. I don't _have_ to stay there just so I can find work there. Besides giving me a cheaper, practical living option, the biggest driving force is really, I just want to come home to you every day, Quinn."

"You don't have to be the one to move here, I can just move back. That would be easier for you to—"

"I don't want it easy, Quinn", Rachel kissed the corner of the blonde's lips. "I want to deserve you."

"It doesn't have to be that way"

"Quinn, you're really sweet, and I know you _would_ have gone back to the other borough if I ask you, too. But I'm not oblivious to the fact that you love it here. You're in your element here. Maybe when I get my huge break and become established later on—or if you decide to move to Columbia or NYU—we would consider living back there. But right now, that's not up for discussion"

"You've thought about it, huh?"

"It's been on my mind for some time now, yes"

"But what if you don't like it?"

"If it doesn't work out, then we'll discuss other options. I promise."

"You are amazing", the blonde sighed.

"I kind of need to be. You've set a high standard before"

"I wasn't that good."

"You were a lot better than me."

"So, this is about competition?", Quinn chuckled then raised her eyebrow.

"No, I'll let you and Santana play that game. This is about me not giving you any more reason to leave me. It's purely selfish, but", she shrugged, "I'm selfish. What can I do?"

Quinn's smile was from ear to ear. "This place is a bit small for two"

"It's very cozy."

"And my bed's really just for one person"

"I like to cuddle with you a _lot_"

"And I run early morning"

"I've read the benefits of running. I'm thinking of taking it up, too"

"That means I can't make you breakfast"

"Ah, well. Then I should stick to yoga and make _you_ breakfast. Got any more excuse?"

"I went back to eating bacon."

"I told you before, I can cook it, I just won't eat it."

"I guess I've ran out of reasons"

"When should I start packing, then?"

"Tomorrow"

"My fifteen minutes is up"

"I'm rather enjoying this conversation"

A/N: Oh, wow. One more chapter and we'll end this journey. After I upload it (soon) I'll definitely revisit the chapters for editing (grammar, typos and stuff, nothing significant enough to change anything in the story), so you might see an inserted sentence or two, but that's just about it.

New Haven metro passes. Don't we just all wish to have a _friend_ who will spend that much just so we can see them?


	28. End

A/N: Wooh. It's done. I can't thank you enough for sticking with the story. Thank you for all the reviews (especially those who zealously commented), alerts and favorites.

To Anonymous27 and Mel: You both had the same correction. Mea Culpa. I will change it as soon as I start re-editing this fic.

I take prompts. Just PM me, and I'll see what I can do :-) (just no g!peen or gender swap, because I don't know, I just find it hard to write about it and I might just do some serious injustice.)

_If it takes my whole life_

_I won't break, I won't bend_

_It will all be worth it_

_Worth it in the end_

'_Cause I can only tell you what I know_

_That I need you in my life_

_When the stars have all burned out_

_You'll still be burning so bright_

_Answer_

"Hi—"

"Hello, I'm Duncan and this is my wife, Liz. Where the hell is Lucie?"

"Nice meet—"

"Da! Ma! Meet Santana Lopez. She's Emily's girlfriend, Em has a girlfriend!"

"I—"

"I am _so_ pleased to meet you, Santana. You're such a lovely girl!"

"Oh my dear, you don't know how happy I am to see you. I can now die peacefully"

"Stop saying that, Da. You scare Ma. I'm Ollie, I'm Em's big brother and my wife, Sadie and my boys. Come here, you three. Meet your Aunt Santana"

"Aunt?"

"So when are you marrying? I'm old you know, I want to see my Emmie settle down."

"Da, we're not—"

"This is our little one, Jacob"

"Hi Jacob, how are—"

"Sadie, your son's drooling at my friends."

"Zachary, don't stare at Rachel! Tobias, step away from Quinn. Now"

"Oi! Stay away from my girlfriend, you little creep! Ollie, your sons are perverts"

"They're not that—Jacob, stop kissing Santana's cheek. Now."

"Holy crap", Santana muttered under her breath while subtly wiping her cheek. "He licked me."

Emily rubbed the Latina's back and smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry. This is why I don't like exclusive schools. Their system goes haywire when they see girls."

"Your family's a bit…high-strung."

"You still love me, don't you?", Emily chuckled.

"Well, yeah. Just, if your nephew tries to lick my cheek again. I'm gonna go Lima Heights on him.", Santana warned with a disgusted look on her face.

"I told you to brace yourself", Quinn interjected. "They'll be breathing down your neck since you're Emily's girlfriend. They backed off when they realized I wasn't", the blonde chuckled. "Well, except for Tobi—Sadie, your son's still staring at _my_ girlfriend."

"Shh, he's just a boy, Quinn", Rachel stated calmly and smiled at the boy.

"He's a teenager. With raging hormones. God knows what he's thinking right now."

"Oh, you're just being malicious"

"Zachary", Sadie frowned then pinched the boy's ear. "That's very rude."

"But Ma, she's a real bonny", the boy protested and continued to stare at Rachel.

"Yes, but she's Quinn's girlfriend. You remember how your Aunt Layla trembled at Quinn, don't you? You want to go through that?"

"Erm, no", Zachary mumbled then slowly retreated but stole glances at the diva.

Both Santana and Rachel's gaze snapped towards Quinn's direction. "What exactly did you do?", Rachel asked in wide-eyed wonder.

Quinn glanced at Emily and both laughed. "Nothing, I didn't do anything.", the blonde chuckled.

"Nothing my ass.", Santana said with a proud smile. "You turned on your HBIC persona, didn't you?"

Quinn shrugged. "What's with the frown?"

Rachel huffed. "Well, don't be all HBIC on Zachary. I don't want to lose my fan base."

"Hey, I'm your biggest fan. In fact, I should be—"

"Quinn!", a familiar voice of a small girl emerged and ran towards the blonde.

"Lucie!", Quinn stood up and hugged the little brunette. "You've grown", she said while ruffling the girl's hair.

"Yes! I grew several inches, and Da says I might be as tall as Aunt Emily. That really pleases me. And—oh, hello, I don't think I've met you. I'm Lucie, with an I and E.", she smiled then extended her hand at Rachel then Santana.

Rachel smiled widely. "Please to meet you, Lucie. I'm Rachel and this is Santana."

The girl's eyes brightened. "You're Aunt Emily's girlfriend!", she exclaimed then hugged the Latina before turning her attention back at Rachel. "Are you Quinn's girlfriend?"

"Why, yes I am", the diva grinned then took Quinn's hand.

Lucie's face turned somber. "Are you taking good care of her?"

Rachel's mouth hung. "I…think so?" She glanced at Quinn who in return nodded and winked at the little girl.

"Hmm. Good. Then, I like you."

"You like Quinn very much, huh?"

"Yes! I want to be like her when I grow up. I'm taking up gymnastics just like Quinn, and Da _finally_ agreed to painting and drawing lessons."

"That's wonderful, Lucie. Quinn is really a good role model.", Rachel said before leaning closer to Quinn and spoke through her grin, "I certainly hope she won't end up making pornographic drawings on bathroom walls."

Quinn chortled then spoke after Lucie lost interest in them and paid careful scrutiny at her Aunt Santana, "Please don't remind me of my darker days."

"Why? It's actually quite endearing, now that I think about it."

"What's so endearing about that?"

"The fact that you resorted to all childish methods to get my attention is charming. In hindsight, of course."

"Or maybe I'm just charming in general."

"Well, that goes without saying"

They made a pit stop to Newcastle and met up with Santana and Emily. It was right after the diva and the Latina's respective graduations; as promised by Emily, Santana had been treated to a five-star everything while Rachel and Quinn went backpacking. They didn't even intend to drop by. But Santana endlessly pleaded for them to be with her when she got introduced to the Carrs. There's always a heavy weight attached to meeting the parents, and more importantly, getting their approval.

Quinn and Rachel, of all people, understood that very well.

Hiram had finally warmed up to the blonde.

Judy had promised a good chastising and Rachel took it like the honorable woman that she is.

Russell, well, the couple could not be bothered getting his acceptance anymore. Quinn made a last attempt, before leaving for England, to talk about her relationship with Rachel, but the man declined. There's always that certain point where one has to accept the limitations of another person. It's only when that happens that one would feel at peace with herself. She had finally stopped longing for her father's support and simply reconciled the idea that Russell's beliefs do not match hers.

So it felt good; that despite the absence of her father, Judy showed up at Rachel's graduation and got along with the Berry men quite well. She still had a hard time processing the dynamics of a gay relationship, but it's the effort that counted.

And once again, if there are people who know the importance of effort, that will be Rachel and Quinn.

They try. Lord knows they try.

Quinn wanted to be pushed to open up, well, she got it. Talking was hard for both of them, mainly because there were a lot of painful things that needed to be brought up. Neither wanted to hurt the other, but sometimes, it was necessary. Not talking about it is like covering a wound with Band-aid for an unnecessary period of time. It actually does not contribute to healing, but could lead to infection. Airing it out was healthy and vital for the wounds to mend completely. It was, once again, striking a delicate balance between a dialogue to move forward, and indulging in guilt and self-pity.

It's also continuing process because it was inevitable for them to unintentionally hurt each other. That's a consequence of love that they would have to accept along with the good.

And there was a lot of good.

More importantly, there was recognition of the good.

Quinn appreciated the fact that Rachel was a dreamer. There's something that needed to be said about the brunette's one-track mindedness in trying to reach for her goals. She constantly made mistakes—which are to be expected for someone with a tunnel vision—but never gave up on winning Quinn back. And she's not giving up on trying to be the best person for the blonde.

On the flipside, Rachel was grateful that Quinn was a believer. That she was the type of person who would die fighting for her faith. She didn't have ancient scriptures and texts to guide her relationship with Rachel. And it certainly wasn't easy navigating through life. But she had, and don't ask how, confidence in the diva. It was unwavering. She may have let go at a certain point, but she never lost her conviction that Rachel would seek her out once more. Because the diva always did. Whether it was in the bathroom or hallway of McKinley high, or the boroughs of New York City, Rachel simply never stopped.

Emily called her a "hopeful" romantic. That the blonde was not at all naïve in the ways of love and romance but continue to believe in it anyway. She wasn't in love with love. She was in love with Rachel. And she was in love with loving Rachel.

It's what kept her from fainting inside the subway for three years.

It's also what drove her to rudely request Emily for solo photos in England.

Because it didn't seem right that it wasn't Rachel beside her.

And boy, was it the best decision she had ever made in her entire life. Rewards galore from the diva when she found out.

They pretended to be on their honeymoon because by original schedule, they should have been married by now. And when they do decide to really get married, Rachel may be too busy with sold-out performances (or more realistically, Rachel and Quinn would be a struggling Broadway artist and academic respectively). Might as well fast-forward whatever they can while the graduation money and some savings still could take them somewhere.

It was the correct decision because they got married anyway the year after.

Or more accurately, they eloped.

Maturity, evidently, can't be bought wholesale.

But they were shameless in showing, and unsuccessful in hiding their love for each other's antics, anyway.

Like the time Rachel withheld sex for a week because Quinn refused to let the diva take on an off-Broadway understudy role that required partial nudity.

Or the time Quinn threw a hissy fit in a pub because some college guys happened to have recognized Rachel _precisely_ for that role and asked for a photo with them.

Or throwing dagger glares at poor young Zachary simply because he had developed a crush on Rachel.

It was a good thing they were only set to stay for a couple of days, or the lad would have been traumatized for life.

They were on the last leg of their vacation in Ireland and Rachel was literally being dragged by Quinn to St. Patrick's Cathedral in Dublin. The moment they entered the church, Quinn searched and found a wooden door with a rectangular hole in it.

"What's this?", Rachel whispered.

"It's the Door of Reconciliation"

"Interesting", the brunette smiled.

"You know why it's called that?"

Rachel shook her head.

"There were two warring families and one of them hid inside the church, while the other attempted to negotiate. When the one from the other side got sick and tired of waiting for the guy hiding here to open up, the man outside cut this hole and stuck his hand inside."

Rachel nodded slowly. "That was a huge risk, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, the guy who's inside the church could have easily cut off his arm. But I guess it's that valor and sincerity that moved the other guy. So instead of permanently injuring his enemy, he shook his hand for reconciliation."

Rachel looked at her wistfully. "Kind of like us, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Except, I probably would have nibbled your arm, first."


End file.
